She was starin' out the window of their SUV
Complainin', saying "I can't wait to turn eighteen"
She said "I'll make my own money
and I'll make my own rules"
Mama put the car in park out there in front of the school
And she kissed her head
and said "I was just like you"
But you're gonna miss this
You're gonna want this back
You're gonna wish these days
hadn't gone by so fast
These are some good times
So take a good look around
You may not know it now...
I was up late last night with my planner. Looking ahead at all I have going on in the next six weeks of my life, it occurred to me that our time here in Texas is already as good as done.
Funny. Because it wasn't long ago that I was impressed by endless cotton fields while passing through Louisiana on the way from Florida, finally arriving in Texas on the evening of our one year anniversary.
Our first apartment here was far from what I'd hoped; that's just what happens when you sign a lease 1,200 miles away. The intimidating interstates, the disturbing lack of beaches or Publix, the way our laundry room doors were installed backwards, the miniature lassos I saw hanging on rearview mirrors in the Stockyards... did we really have to stay here for two and a half years? You laugh, but instead of a face on my first Texas pumpkin, I carved "I HATE IT HERE".
Ok, so even I wanna laugh. But it was all so sobering at the time that it practically evokes tears even now.
It took me over a year to stop fighting it. The temperatures that make your car interior 10* in the winter and 145* in the summer... The way I needed to take multiple interstates just to get to places that used to be three stop signs away... How we're required to have a license plate on both ends of our cars---and keep a good supply of screws on hand for the pranksters who find it funny to steal them off. The way the birds cover the sky in the fall like something from an Alfred Hitchcock movie. How almost every other day in a Florida summer was an opportunity to break out some candles and listen to the rain, but it only rained three times during our first year here. Between the semis that rule roads which don't warn you of frequent merges; the time our Toyota Yaris tried to take on an eighteen wheeler; and other charming surprises, like that time a mattress dropped off someone's pick-up truck late one night to say hi to our car going 70mph... yeah, we often felt like we were living in Final Destination. On top if it all, I had a rocky time making friends because people would insist on starting with questions like "do you like it here?", and naively I thought they genuinely wanted to know.
Fast forward to now. I love me an open interstate. I couldn't help but notice the other day that nothing feels more right on my feet than leather boots. I've learned that if you've got a farmer's market down the road, a happenin' church 15 minutes away, a pulse on your wrist, your best friend waiting for you in a small townhome with French doors, and enough antique emporiums to make you take them for granted, YOU'VE GOT IT ALL.
We're starting to slowly pack for California today. Years ago I would have KILLED for this day---but now that it's here I'm a little sad. As a military family, you learn to make home where ever you go, and we did that here. And I owe Texas a debt of gratitude. Because I've grown more in the last two and a half years than I have in the 21 before them. I've adapted in ways I didn't think was possible. I'm not even lying to Texans now when I tell them I love it here. And I'm better for all of it.
In the words of Mumford & Sons, I have learned to love the skies I'm under. What big and beautiful skies they are.
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| Photo courtesy of Pinterest |
