Over the 4th of July week-end, Paul and I decided rather impulsively to take a quick trip back to my hometown of Lubbock. I was born and grew up there. We had not been back at all in 26 years. Many, many memories exist for me there. Paul and I both went to college there, met and married there, adopted Aaron there.
In that whirlwind trip, we visited some of my/our personal memories...the house we first lived in together, the second house we lived in together, the house I lived in growing up etc., the place we spent our honeymoon and of course, the Tech campus where we met.
I stood outside the first house, the house I had initially lived in as a teen with my mother and for many years with Paul. The house we lived in when Aaron was born. A rush of memories cascaded through my mind as I stood by our car taking it all in. The neighborhood had seriously deteriorated. I continued to stare at the house...remembering. I took pictures of it as well. Later I joked that if anyone in the house was gazing out a window, they might well be saying, "Why is some lady parked across the street from our house staring and taking pictures???! And now, she's CRYING!" Yes, I cried. I was just overcome by the emotion of the moment of seeing the house again where so much of my life had been lived. So very many memories in that nondescript old house in West Texas.
"Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom."
Psalm 90:12 NIV
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