This is the last day of Winter, and the bluebonnets are in full bloom in front of my house. When I die, this will be one of the images I hope flashes in front of my eyes.
I live in Highland Park, San Antonio, Texas. My parents purchased this house in 1963 for $12,000. Their monthly note payment was about $100. This is the house I grew up in until I was an exchange student to Belgium thanks to my pop’s local Rotary club connection. When I returned a year later, my parents had divorced, and I found a place of my own. I attended university, and then joined the Air Force in 1986.
I never asked my pop how he came to be the first college graduate in his entire bloodline, as far as I know. I’ve never asked my mom what her family did to provide Colorado summers with horses for the girls, give fast cars for the boys to crash and sleep in the finest house in town. I live here now. And I live here again. And I need to say hello, and ask questions. And show respect.
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