The Yellow Rose of Texas

It will be 25 years this spring since my husband and I moved to Washington State. When we moved here, I knew no one here but my husband, who had lived here before going to graduate school in Austin, Texas, where we would meet in the fall of 1984. Before moving to Washington State, I had lived almost 11 years in Texas. One year in Dallas as a foreign exchange student attending a local high school, four years attending TCU, and six and a half years in graduate school in Austin. When I was about 5, I wanted to be a cowboy, and had a toy pistol and a red cowboy hat. Little did I know I would spend ten years in Texas, between the ages of 19 and 29. I have recently gotten back in touch with my brother's ex-wife, and gotten to know via texts and some pictures, my brother's 21 year old daughter, whom I have never met in person. I also got back in touch with two friends from TCU and started an intellectual connection with a local artist in Fort Worth, who graduated from TCU. It makes for some strange emotions, to re- visit a place that holds a lot of meaning, and memories. At TCU I made friends that would allow for trips to Mexico City, Guadalajara, Cozumel, Kinshasa, Costa Rica. Those trips were wonderful adventures in culture and personal connections. At Austin, I met my husband of 27 years, I got married there, and to this day I am friends with three very dear friends I met while in graduate school in Austin. My French friend Catherine, who has worked and lived in Paris for the last 28 years, my friend Eduardo, from El Paso, who is now a Jesuit priest and professor of theology at Berkeley, and my friend Driss  from Morocco, who is now President of Al Akhawayn University in Ifrane, Morocco. Wonderful memories of all three friends, then, and a great connection still with them to this day. Then, there are the strange memories. the dark ones. The beginning of my youngest sister ' s illness, the bizarre circumstances of my mother's last years when she was living with my divorced brother. She died in Texas, but my father died in Belgium. There are also the happy memories of my host mom, Dottie, who now lives in Weatherford, Texas, and of my friend Ellen, the first friend I ever made at TCU, and who is my friend still. When I left Texas in January 1987, I left everything familiar behind to move to Washington State across the country where I knew no one outside of my husband. I am Flemish born and lived in my native Belgium for almost 20 years, but 10 years in Texas made that state a second home in my heart, at least experience wise. Washington State is home, where we bought a house that we have lived in for the last 24 years, where my son was born, and where I made some lasting friendships with some very good neighbors, and a very wise pastor at the African American church where I have been a member for going on 19 years. I was sworn in as an American Citizen in Seattle on September 29th, 1994. So, for all intents and purposes, Washington State is home. But, I cannot deny, that on the rare occasion I hear the song "The Yellow Rose of Texas", that my heart skips a beat, and a wistful smile covers my face.