This time of year, after the Christmas whirlwind, I often feel reflective and a bit nostalgic at the same time. Today, I drove home from Goldthwaite with my sleeping child in the back seat, with Greg Brown and John Prine stories coming through the speakers it's hard not to reminisce. Troy had to stay home for most of the trip this year because of our ailing and aging pets, perhaps that is why this year I felt particularly remenisent; feeling more like my mother's child, a granddaughter, a niece, a sister, and a mom during this time with my family, and less like a wife.
The hill country is where my family gathers each year, and this tradition has been happening since before I was born. I can remember many a Christmas eves spent there, with my sisters and cousins, usually always at my grandparent's house in the country. Everyone has memories of their childhood around this time of year, yet this year was was a bit different. Instead of reflecting on my own memories, I saw memories being etched in Phin's mind, memories that I know he will cherish and remember for years to come.
The setting for this years family gathering was at my aunt and uncle's ranch. They have a lot of land, when you sit on their back porch, you look out into the rolling Texas hills, without seeing the end of it. This is what I remember as a child, spending many vacations on a ranch in the county. Back then, to my cousins, my sisters and I were "city girls", but we were more like "sheltered suburbanites" looking back, and those respites from the ticky tacky suburban life I lived were a welcome change. This year, the weather could not have been more perfect, mid 60's and sunny skies were the back drop for the week in this lazy little hill country town. The one day Troy was able to drive up and spend most of the day with us was just such a day. Even in this touchscreen world we live in now, and despite the plethora of new gadgets and gizmos, the cousins spent much of the day outside, tossing a football, wielding a lightsaber, or practicing their gymnastics, all under the warm winter sky.
Troy, my sister's husband Lawrence, and Phin set out to walk the pasture for a bit. This was the first time Phin had been "off the beaten path" so to speak, and I must admit that I was a bit nervous as I watched Phin's little figure fade into the horizon of the landscape, though I was more at ease knowing that there were two adults with him if anything should happen. Two hours had passed while I sat, patiently awaiting their return. Now this goes without saying, but I am an anxious mother, one who worries way too much, so I felt that this was a big step me.
As I waited, I could not help but recall the many journeys into the country that my cousins and I ventured on as young children without two adult chaperones and a cell phone no less, and we all survived. In fact, I believe we thrived on those adventures, and they were an important part of my fond memories as a child.
After a while, their figures reappeared into view, and I felt pulled back down to my reality. A small weight lifted from my chest as I saw Phin in his orange windbreaker between his two "wilderness guides".
That night, Phin recited the details to me about their walk, and I was instantly six years old again; walking down a dirt path with my cousins, searching for arrow heads, throwing rocks into the creek, and jumping from one ledge to the next, all without the the tools of modern day to comfort our parents until our return.
