Every fall, about the time the air finally starts to lose its summer thickness, three sisters pack their bags for what they call The Sisters Trip. They’ve been doing it for years now — ever since their mom and dad passed on — and it’s become as dependable as pumpkin spice and football Saturdays.

The cast of characters never changes: Donna, the youngest, who lives down in Baton Rouge; Beverly, the middle sister, holding down the fort in Statesville, North Carolina; and Sandy, the big sister, the Carrollton, Texas peacemaker who hosts them all.

They usually start the pilgrimage at Sandy’s house, because that’s where they’re from — Texas born and Texas proud. It’s home turf, after all, and besides, Sandy knows all the best places to eat and how to work the TV remote, which counts for a lot for ladies of a certain age.

Their adventures are a little like a Hallmark movie — and that’s fitting, because they watch plenty of those. Every trip involves a lot of laughter, a little shopping, and occasionally a bit of bickering — the kind of harmless back-and-forth that only sisters can get away with. Sandy often has a full printed itinerary for the trip, complete with times, addresses, and notes in the margins. Beverly always approves the plans, and Donna, the youngest, is always the driver. There’s no debate about it — that’s just how it is.

They don’t go far — at least not most years. Sometimes it’s a day trip down to Austin, or a shopping run through the Dallas area, but mostly they stay near Carrollton and let the good times come to them. The Fort Worth Christmas in Cowtown Junior League event is always part of the itinerary, because these ladies take holiday shopping as seriously as the Twelve Days of Christmas. From there it’s a steady rotation of Dillard’s, Lululemon, and James Avery, where they add another charm to their Texas-themed charm bracelets — a small, shining reminder of another year together.

And yes, there’s always a stop for Mexican food somewhere along the way — because no good trip in Texas is complete without a little salsa and a basket of warm chips.

Evenings are slower, usually spent curled up in comfortable clothes, watching Netflix or Hallmark Christmas movies. They talk about their parents, give updates on Beverly’s grandchildren and Donna’s son, and share stories about Sandy’s daughter, Angie, who transitioned a few years ago. Those conversations bring laughter, a few tears, and a deep sense that family — in all its forms — is still the strongest bond there is.

They even have matching T-shirts they wear on every trip. My personal favorite is the one that says, “I’m the favorite.”It’s a nod to their mom and dad and the lifelong, good-natured debate over which sister actually held that title. Truth be told, if you asked their parents, they probably would have said, “All three.”

There’s something sacred in that rhythm — in the laughter that drifts from one story to the next, in the shared memories that only siblings can truly understand. This trip isn’t really about sightseeing or even shopping. It’s about connection — about three sisters keeping something alive that started long before they were born and somehow keeps getting stronger.

Beverly approves the plans. Sandy makes the peace. And Donna, as always, makes sure they get there and back in one piece.

And if you happen to see three women around Dallas in October, laughing like they just remembered something funny from 1964 — that’s probably them.

There’s something about sisters — and maybe something about Texas too — that keeps people coming back to the places where they started.

And as best as I remember it, that’s what love looks like when you put it on four wheels, print an itinerary, and wear matching shirts that say, “I’m the favorite.”

As Best As I Remember It.