I didn't really think too much about it, the last time that I walked away from my parents house in Deer Park. It was mostly a moment of stupidity I guess. I had gone down with the sole purpose of helping my mother pack, before my dad got there to actually move her. For some delusional reason, i assumed I would still be back at some point. It dawned on me later that my parents would actually be selling the house as soon as they were fully moved out. I felt a little dumb when I finally realized that. I think I would have spent my time there a little differently.
We moved there when I was 7, the summer of 1988. I grew up spending as much time as possible outside with the neighbor boys playing football, street hockey, and trying to not get caught doing stupid kid stuff. I got the chance, (more so than any of my siblings) to actually grow up in one place.
Without getting too self indulgent, suffice it say that i had a good "growing up" experience, and I am a little sad to be closing the door on that part of my history. So thanks, texas, for what you've given me.
