I started this blog – my second – tonight. The first one began when C was in Guatemala a couple of years ago. Nearly 3 years later I’m bored with my old blog so I’m starting a new one.  C is out of out of town this time too.

I have lots of journals even though I’m humiliatingly sporadic in following through on what is often a strong and daily call to write. Funny, because I usually really like what I’ve written when I read through it months or years later.

 Here’s an entry from September 23, 2001. Maybe you’ll get a kick out of it. I did.

Sunday night.

C just pooted.

K is freshly asleep.

H & friend C just walked out the door.

New puppy Keller barks.

Texas music plays on the computer cd drives as C plays his upteenth game of Snood tonight.

I am happy.

We are moving to Texas Tennessee.

I am sad.

We are moving to Texas Tennessee.

Ooops. Freudian slip.

We are leaving Texas.

We are moving to Tennessee.

Do I like this?

Yes.

No.

Living in Texas these past 13 years has brought a richness & appreciation not likely garnered between the borders of any other state, southern or otherwise.

Why is it I begin so  many journals yet complete so very few?

My guess is this journal will not be known for its c_____

Drat. Forgot the word I wanted to say.

Began with a c.

I’ve lived in Texas as long as anywhere.

I’ve grown in mind (body too, I’m afraid) and spirit here.

The wide open spaces make the lack of trees a very valuable gift.

Lord, will I ever love Tennessee with the passion that thoughts of Texas bring?

Shiner Bock.

Lone Star Beer (which I don’t drink but fondly remember nonetheless).

Enchanted Rock.

K’s first hike.

My first real rock climb.

Aggie Ring.

Robert Earl Keen.

Lyle Lovett.

And seeing him at the next table during an early lunch with friend & co-worker Raynell.

Sad.

Memories.

So many photos.

Texas is such a big part of me.

Did I expect to be so torn when the departure became a reality?

No.

Who knew.

This sucks.

I want to go.

I desperately want to stay.

And it’s oh so much deeper than H & K staying behind.

Dancer, Texas.

Giant.

Nanci Griffith.

Austin City Limits.

Luckenbach.

Talk to me…while I’m listening (from a Nanci Griffith song).

Watching the bats at the Congress Avenue bridge.

Sad.

So many things I’ll not get to see again.

Didn’t realize I’d miss them.

No more bluebonnet springs.

Thank That breaks my heart.

Too many Bud Lights and a headache makes me screw up.

Wish I had my grandmother’s handwriting.

But would I say as much?

She’s 94.

One daughter. One son.

One husband; murdered in 1948.

Devout Baptist.

Old. Judgemental.

Lived much longer than she thought.

Outlived brother Tip. Outlived sister Edna. Outlived her mother Alice by 93 years.

So many stories to learn. Discover.

Tennessee will be good.

Friends will be so painful to leave at the city limits.

Will I ever have faces as special to me in Tennessee?

Roots.

They’re in Texas.

Did I realize that before?

Looking through the multitude of photos I’ve taken over the past 13 years brings tears of sweet memories.
Days gone by.

Places that won’t be within driving distance.

People that will forget me.

Or will forget how to remember.

What will we talke about on those long distance phone calls when I’ve left?

Will emails be reduced to copies of the latest interesting things to come down the pike?

I’m afraid.

Afraid I’ll never again know friends as close to my heart as Texas has gifted me.

Afraid that my dear daughter and grandson will wave goodby at the border just like my friends.

Afraid that the loneliness of waiting to develop new friends, a new life will send me to despair.

Afraid that finding a new church home will be a bigger pain that I will fulfill.

Afraid my butt will get even bigger. (side issue – <grin>)

Who knew moving would be this hard?

And it’s still 5 months away.

What a blubbering baby I am.

Be careful what you ask for.

You just might get it.

T for Texas.
T for Tennessee.

At least they don’t wear maroon.

M