“The hardest arithmetic to master is that which enables us to count our blessings.”-Eric Hoffer

April 20, 21, 2012 Another beautiful weekend in the Lone Star State has passed. I love living in Texas. I have lived here for 37 years. Seems like yesterday when my feet hit the Texas soil. When I first moved to Texas, I had no idea what would happen to me, what my future would be, or what I would become. I knew I was going to finish college. That was the whole idea of moving to Texas. In the years I have lived here, I have met so many interesting people. I have had so many life experiences that have turned into really good memories. I have seen the young children of my friends grow up. I have seen the parents of these young children grow old. I have met many good friends, and have lost many greater friends. I too have grown older. The increase in population growth, businesses, housing developments, and the number of schools being built to match the housing growth can be overwhelming at times. I choose to live in the country, right on the eastern perimeter of Austin. I love the country life. I grew up in Baltimore. Austin is nothing like Baltimore. My old neighborhood is nothing like my home now. I wake up each morning to peace and quiet. When I take my morning walk, instead of car horns, I hear cows mooing, birds singing, and the wind rustling through the tree.Instead of a traffic jam, I see farmers hauling hay for their cattle, school busses taking children to school, an occasional Armadillo meandering across the road, and a few city folks on bicycles taking advantage of the beautiful countryside. This is God’s country. I found God here. I thought I moved to Texas of my own free will but it was really the will of the Lord that brought me here. For that, I am forever grateful. My moving, however, was not without a price. I didn’t pay the price. My mother did. She and I were very close right up until the day I left. We wrote letters to each other every week. Every Friday without fail, I would receive a letter or a card in the mail. I would write to her or call her on the phone. I would visit her during the holidays. When I had a chance to move to New York for several months, I was excited to be living closer to her, than I was in living in Texas. When I moved to Texas,I was moving on to a new chapter in my life. I knew she missed me. But over time, she stared to become active in the neighborhood association and made friends of her own. I believe she could have been happy if it were not for my father’s abuse that continued long after I left. She blamed him for my leaving. She was right. However, like the loyal Catholic wife that she was, she would not leave him no matter how sick he was or how unhappy she was. She was a really good person who would give you the shirt off of her back. She was kind, generous, thoughtful, and very caring, even to people she did not know. I would have loved to stay in Baltimore with her. I just couldn’t see a future there with the memories of my past lingering over me. Living there, I was depressed and anxious. It took me years of living in Texas to overcome my fear and suspicion of people. When you grow up with a mentally ill alcoholic, you learn to walk with your back to the wall, never trust strangers, keep your mouth shut,don’t draw attention to yourself, and be on your guard at all times. I eventually overcame my depression, anxiety, and my fear and suspicions of other people. I learned to trust others and became more comfortable talking to people. I learned to be comfortable with myself. I learned to like myself. Today, at the age of 58, I am slowly easing into retired life. Looking back, moving to Texas was the best move of my life. No regrets. UPDATE!!!!!! My new non-profit website that I mentioned in an earlier blog, is coming along. I have chosen a name for the non-profit, secured a domain registration and ownership, and have designed a t-shirt to go along with the organization. So, it won’t be long (1-2 weeks) before we are fully operational. Stay tuned.