My sister and I always heard the many wonderful stories about our mother's home in East Texas. When we were very small, we moved out of the state of Texas many years ago because of our father's work. We settled in a nice neighborhood outside of San Diego, California. We did not have the opportunity to return before our mother had passed away last fall. For some reason during our Easter family dinner, my sister and I decided to plan a trip back to mother's home place.
The day was just beautiful and the bluebonnets were displaying all of their glory. The color was so intense. Our cousin Max drove us to the old place in this red 1950's something truck. That drive was an adventure all in itself. My sister, I, my two daughters, and Max's dog Wyatt. The road leading to the place had experienced it share of hardship so we traveled very cautiously. When we arrived, my emotions got the best of me. I let the tears flow because somehow I knew that mother's spirit was with us as we walked around. We somehow knew that, even though we had never been here before, we belonged.
After having an impromptu picnic, many many photo shots, and collecting all of the sites and sounds possible, we decided it was time to leave. I cannot fully explain that day's experience. A sense of pride and spiritual warmth all rolled into one. Our ride back to our hotel was silent but for the first time in many months, I experienced true peace. In my heart I said "thanks mom for showing me the way".