Texas, My Eyes Are Upon You...

My Dearest Texas:

Love of my heart. How are things going? Thought I would drop a line to explain why my wife and I moved to Arkansas. Certainly this was nothing personal directed toward you. You see, about two years ago, our grandkids who lived in Baytown moved to Arkansas. So for the past two years my wife has been thinking we should leave Texas and move to Arkansas. And so we moved to Arkansas.

As you know I was born in Port Arthur. St. Mary’s hospital to be exact. That was in 1935. I lived in Beauxart Gardens, Nederland and Beaumont. And when I graduated from South Park High School in 1953, I moved to Abilene and graduated from college in 1957. Never in all my born years did I think I’d be writing to tell you I migrated to Arkansas. In fact it still has not registered fully in my aging brain.

There are a lot of adjustments when moving from Texas to Arkansas. First, I find myself in what the local folks call, “Razorback Country.” Can you believe that? Most of my new friends are Hogs. I was already confused enough. My son worked on his masters degree at the University of Texas in Austin. Then my son-in-law headed off to College Station and worked on his masters degree at Texas A & M University. So we had Longhorn and Aggie banners all over the place. Now I guess I’ve got to get a Razorback flag to hang up somewhere. What an ordeal.

Having the license plates changed on the cars was not too much of a problem. They wanted to see the titles of the automobiles and that was about it.
But having our drivers’ licenses changed proved to be something else. These folks wanted to see our birth certificates and our marriage license. I had to write a letter to Good Samaritan Hospital in Watertown NY and request a birth certificate for my wife. Forget the phone and the internet. They wanted a letter with original signature.
And the marriage license? We had never seen it. I was praying that the old preacher that married us in Fayetteville NC in 1963 had indeed filed the document. Bless his heart. It was filed. I had to write a letter requesting the license. It’s sort of coincidental I suppose but these documents in New York and North Carolina cost $9.00 per copy.

Well, Texas, I did not intend to run on about the details of our moving away. I intended to say, “Thank you for being my home state.” I want you to know how much I enjoyed being with you. Our lives together were beautiful. There is nothing like being a Texan and I am so proud to tell people that “I’m from Texas.”

And you know what? Sometimes when I say that I am from Texas, a lump forms in my throat. You see, down deep I wish I still could say, “I live in Texas.” Seventy-three years in Texas and four months in Arkansas is a pretty difficult adjustment.

I’ll keep in touch. In fact, Mr. Tom Taschinger, Opinions Page Editor of the Beaumont Enterprise has assured me that I can continue to write my guest column for the paper. So I hope to do just that.

Texas, just know that I love you. I miss you. And I will try not to be jealous of my big sister. She still lives in Texas. She’s been there all of her life. And, as you will recall, she is even older than I am.

But as you know, grandkids carry a powerful punch and so now we live in Arkansas.

Keep that Lone Star burning brightly.

Love,
Winston –