Before the emails start and the days accelerate and the restaurant pulls me back into its orbit, I step outside on to the lanai. The pool mirrors the blue above it. The trade winds play on my skin like a whisper. I sit at my table and try to take it all in, the way of chewing slowly when you know the meal is almost over. These are the last mornings. And they alone make it hard to leave.

It is a Tuesday night in early May and I am standing in my daughter's school auditorium, phone in one hand, program in the other, Resy notifications going off in my pocket while I try to be fully present for the last performance of the year. May-cember is real. Here is how I move through it.

I stopped asking myself where I want to go a long time ago. Instead I ask who I want to be with. Every departure from Maui, thousands of miles of ocean between us and everyone we love, has to be justified by what is waiting on the other side. This is the most practical travel advice I can offer.