This is a recollection. Sort of. It is the 13th of December. This day is inconsequential, to me at least, of its own accord, but pivotal in its position as the day before I return home. People often wonder why it is I love Texas so much, but the question there is incorrect. Rather, they should ask why I love home so much. I find myself wondering more often what is so awful about their homes that they do not possess an equal love for their own home. But maybe even my own introspection is incorrect. Maybe, just maybe, the question should be what does he love about his family so much? But then, there must be others that are as family oriented as I in this great green earth. In truth, I believe it to be a combination of the three.
Texas is the wide open road, hill country, hunting, beach, ocean, and forests (and deserts, but I don’t think anyone likes those?). I love the climate (excepting Late July and August) throughout the year. The sun shines hot enough in May and June to satisfy the sado-masochistic enjoyment of heat I receive from the recurring mid nineties temperatures. In the fall the leaves don’t change that much, as most of the foliage in my hometown is evergreen. But for me it’s plenty. It gets cold enough in the winter, not usually cold enough to snow, but cold enough to shiver in. Plus, once every few years it snows. In the spring it rains, sometimes so hard that you literally can’t see three feet in front of you. And of course by spring I mean from late February through April. So while most people will hate the “lack of four seasons” I am overjoyed by the presence of four seasons that just happen to be a sort of inverse of what people from winter climates are used to. Instead of four months of winter we have four months of summer. Then there is the variety of landscape we have. But I will stop there. I could go on for a while, but its not necessary. Let me write a disclaimer here now: My love for Texas in no way negates, disables, or destroys your ability to cherish, enjoy, and love your own home, state, flora, fauna, dog, family, car, ect.
Though I do love Texas, I think what I really love is my home. What makes my home for me is not the house, as many over used and cliched adages will tell you, a house does not make a home. I love my family. Yes, we have a strange family dynamic. Yes we talk about things together that most people might consider vile, vulgar, awkward, inappropriate, and ridiculous. Yet, those are merely the inconsequential little things that make us laugh. They are the sprouts that shoot up from the seed and deep roots of openness and love. After all, if you can’t do it with the little things how can you expect to do it in the big things? So for me the stupid and outrageously inappropriate game of things with the family is just as important as the deep conversation about the relationship between faith and reason that comes the night after. Its hard to explain, but I simply love my family more than anything else in this entire world. I can’t wait to one day marry a woman and bring her into my family and her to bring me into hers. I don’t think I will ever be able to leave my family (at least not farther than a couple hours), so whoever she ends up being I hope she’s up for the Texas heat.
So, do I love Texas? Yes. Is it the biggest thing keeping me there? No. Could I ever leave for good? Probably not, I love it too much. But maybe I could live in Colorado. Maybe, but probably not. Anyway: I can here the music bringing me home already. But don’t worry. I’ll be back.
