RIP, Casey.

🌟 🧳 🌟 🧳 🌟 🧳 🌟 🧳

It is with a genuinely heavy heart that I announce the retirement of my longtime travel companion, Casey.

Casey came into my life about ten years ago as a quick purchase.

There was no great love story at first sight. I needed a suitcase.

She needed 360-degree wheels, a sturdy body, maximum capacity, and the ability to take a beating. She wasn't purchased to be pretty. She was purchased to get the job done.

And Lord, did that girl get the job done.

At the time, I was traveling across the country monthly, year after year. Casey started out plain. Practical. Utilitarian.

But somewhere along the way, she started developing a personality.

Every new place brought another tattoo. A sticker here. A sticker there. Little pieces of the places we'd been and the adventures we'd had.

Eventually, people started noticing her.

They'd stop and look at her in airports. Comment on the stickers. Ask about the places she'd been.

And Casey had BEEN SOME PLACES.

She crossed this country from shore to shore and made it to all four corners. She's seen beaches, mountains, deserts, big cities and tiny towns.

She's flown.

She's sailed.

She's been thrown into the back of cars and road-tripped for miles.

She's been to England, Greece, Mexico and Canada. She's visited more Caribbean islands than she can probably remember.

And in ten years of travel...

Not. Once. Lost.

Let's give credit where credit is due, because that is a hell of a record for a suitcase.

She has been trusted, faithful and steady.

And now her tattoos overlap. There isn't another inch of her exterior left to document where we've been. Some are faded. Some are scratched. Some are barely recognizable anymore.

But they're all still there.

And lately, so are the battle scars.

Her internal handle has finally given out. Her zippers are sticking. Her tattoos are fading. And the girl who has faithfully kept up with me for ten years is finally showing me that maybe it's time.

And my heart breaks a little saying that.

Because somewhere along the way, Casey stopped being luggage.

She became a record of my life.

She carried my things while travel changed me.

Those stickers aren't just places on a map. They represent experiences that made me more educated, more independent, more curious and more connected to the world and the people in it.

She was there while I became a different version of myself.

So no, Casey will not be tossed aside.

Absolutely not.

She has earned her retirement.

She will remain exactly as she is, tattoos, scars, faded stickers, broken handle and all, as a monument to ten years of adventures.

Another suitcase will eventually take her place.

It will get the new stamps. The new scars. The airport floors, cruise terminals, hotel rooms and miles of road that are still ahead of me.

But that suitcase has some very big wheels to fill.

Casey gets to rest now.

And when I look at her, I won't see an old suitcase that finally wore out.

I'll see everywhere we've been.

I'll see ten years of stories.

I'll see a companion that never once failed to come home with me.

And I'll remember that sometimes the things we pick up simply because we need them become part of the story we never knew we were writing.

You have been an amazing and steady companion, my girl.

You carried my belongings.

But you also carried pieces of a life I am incredibly grateful I got to live.

Thank you, Casey.

From the bottom of my heart.

You've earned your rest.

And damn, girl...

What a ride.