I decided this past Thursday to put the kids in the car and go see my family in Houston. I had planned on going for awhile, but we kept having car problems. That was solved..(blog for another day), so I made the trip.
I'm so glad we went. We were able to spend time with my sister, her fiance, my brother, dad, both sets of grandparents and some of my dearest friends.
I don't especially miss Houston because of the horrid humidity there, but I love seeing my family and always drive away sad and wishing we were closer. It amazes me that after almost 11 years of being gone, I can go back and know exactly where everything is...right down to little grocery store in my grandmother's neighborhood. I am also proud to admit that I can keep up with any crazy Houston driver. Well, maybe I shouldn't be proud of that. ;-) The best thing about going back home is that it reminds you where you came from.
In the later part of my teenage years my mom made the move to San Antonio for work. My dad decided to move out to Spring, Tx where we lived, buy a house and let us stay in the schools we were so deeply involved in. Although I know it was hard for him to do it all those years, I am grateful for the dad he was to me. He is the most forgiving man I know and never failed to own a mistake. He taught me what it means to forgive like Jesus forgave and to laugh at life....even when it sometimes stinks. He wasn't perfect...but who is.
Madison cracks me up in this picture. ;-)
My grandmother's gorgeous wedding portrait.
My dad's house.
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