This is my road home.

I’m lucky enough to call this gorgeous West Texas farm home. It’s where my great grandmother made sacrifices for the generations after her. It’s where my grandfather was born, raised his family and has lived his entire life; it’s where my father grew up, and on the land to which he’s dedicated his life.

It’s where I was born.

It’s where I learned to crawl, it’s where I learned to laugh. It’s where I learned the difference between right and wrong, and it’s where I learned to love.

It’s where I learned to ride a bike and saddle a horse, where I learned to swim and to shoot, where I learned to climb trees, to make friends and where I learned to talk back. It’s the place I learned responsibility and the place I learned compassion for others. It’s the place I learned respect. It’s where I learned to read, to cook, to paint, to walk in heels, to pray and it’s where I learned to be competitive, forgiving, appreciative and humble.

It’s where I learned the value of a dollar, and the consequences of poor choices; it’s where I learned the golden rule.

It’s where I found out that I can learn more from a stray dog’s eyes, than I can from many adults. It’s where I accepted that love alone cannot make something live longer, but although it may be gone, it can live on in my heart.

It’s where I learned to catch lizards, to raise rabbits, to care for the wounded, and to dust off and get back on the horse.

It’s where I learned to dance, to play, to sing, and to ride. It’s where I took my first test drive, where I had my first kiss, where I buried my first dog and where I first witnessed the miracle of birth.

It’s where I learned about hard work, about agriculture, about animals and about life. It’s where I learned that God gives me the gift of a new day each morning, but it’s up to me to make that day count.