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Austin was always showing up unexpectedly.
He did it so often that eventually, the unexpected became expected.
He was impulsive. He lived almost entirely in the moment, which could be wonderful—and could also get him into plenty of trouble. Plans were more like suggestions to Austin. Even when he said he wasn't coming, there was always a part of me that wondered if he might show up anyway.
One weekend, we had planned a trip to a truck event at Fastrax Motorsports in South Carolina. It was about two hours from home, and none of us had ever been there before.
Austin said he wasn't going.
I don't remember if he had other plans or simply wasn't interested, but I do remember that his truck wasn't legal to drive and his dad had specifically told him not to drive it all the way to South Carolina
even though he had no plans to come along, he spent the days leading up to the trip helping us get ready.
We had recently started converting an enclosed trailer into a homemade camper and toy hauler. Every evening, Austin was in the backyard with his dad helping finish whatever needed to be done.
That was just what Austin did.
He helped get the Jeeps ready.
He worked on trailers.
He picked up groceries.
He filled propane tanks.
If something was broken, he fixed it.
Sometimes he would just walk outside and start working on the Jeep because he was bored.
Whether he planned to be part of the adventure or not, he helped make sure everyone else could go.
We left on Thursday evening.
By Friday night, I wasn't having a very good time.
The trip had turned into something different from what I had imagined. Everyone seemed more interested in drinking and hanging around the campsite than in the actual truck event.
I wanted to explore.
Events like that are full of homemade campers, custom trailers, converted toy haulers, and strange camping setups people have built themselves. I love looking at that stuff.
Most people apparently do not share my enthusiasm for inspecting strangers' homemade campers.
Nobody wanted to ride around and look at them with me.
Friday night, I was messaging Austin.
I told him I wasn't having a good time.
I complained that everyone seemed more interested in drinking than the event. I told him I had wanted to ride around and look at the campsites and all the different builds, but nobody else cared about doing that.
Austin tried to make me feel better.
"Maybe tomorrow it'll calm down and you'll get to go look."
I told him I seriously doubted it.
Everyone had already made plans for the next day, and those plans definitely did not include driving around looking at campers with me.
Eventually, I went to bed.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of a truck revving outside the trailer.
At a truck event, hearing a loud truck isn't unusual.
But this truck was different.
I knew that truck.
I walked outside.
There sat Austin.
In the truck he wasn't supposed to drive.
Two hours from home.
With that big, goofy smile on his face.
"Come on," he said. "Let's go ride around and look at the campers. I think I spotted half a van mounted on a gooseneck trailer."
And just like that, he was there......
We left everyone else sleeping.
And Austin hadn't been lying.
There really was half a van mounted on a gooseneck trailer.
We rode around the entire event looking at campers, trailers, homemade builds, and campsites.
We talked.
We laughed.
We pointed out the really good ideas and the absolutely ridiculous ones.
I knew Austin didn't actually care about the campers.
He wasn't suddenly fascinated by homemade toy haulers.
He cared because I cared.
He had driven two hours in a truck he had specifically been told not to drive there because the night before, his mom had told him she wasn't having a good time.
So he showed up.
I worried his dad was going to be mad.
Honestly, I probably should have been more upset myself.
Instead, I told him how stupid it was to drive that truck all the way to South Carolina.
I'm sure that made absolutely no difference to him.
He was there now.
And that was Austin.
For the rest of the weekend, he was everywhere.
Following us around.
Riding with us.
Driving the Jeep.
Being part of everything.
On Sunday, he helped pack everything up and then asked Wyatt if he wanted to ride home with him.
It was about that time that Austin casually mentioned one small problem.
He didn't have enough gas to get home.
He also didn't have any money.
Of course he didn't.
Such an Austin thing to do.
Drive two hours from home on impulse.
Spend all your money.
Then ask your mom for gas money to get back.
I gave him the money.
We packed up.
And we all headed home together.
We almost made it to the North Carolina line.
Then the blue lights came on.
Austin got pulled over.
Two tickets and nearly four hours later, we finally made it home.
Because apparently even a sweet story about Austin showing up when his mom needed him couldn't end without Austin doing something very Austin.
I think about that trip differently now.
At the time, I saw a son who had made another impulsive decision.
He drove a truck he wasn't supposed to drive.
He showed up without enough money to get himself home.
He got two tickets.
All of that was true.
But something else was true too.
The night before, I told my son I was unhappy.
The next morning, I heard a truck outside.
And I knew that truck.
He came.
He didn't fix the whole weekend.
He didn't need to.
He just showed up with that goofy smile and said,
"Come on. Let's go look at the campers."
Austin spent his whole life doing that.
Showing up when I least expected him.
Showing up when I needed him.
And then, usually...
needing gas money to get home.
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