This used to be my road home.
I was lucky enough to call this gorgeous West Texas farm home. It’s where my great grandparents made sacrifices for the generations to come. It’s where my grandfather was raised; it’s where my father grew up, and on the land to which he dedicated his life.
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.