GOING HOME

Home is where your memories are born...or maybe it's where your secrets live and are kept until you bring them up to the surface to reflect with happiness about some and sadness about others. All the same, your memories belong to you and no one can take them from you. For me, home is where (as the sign in my Art Room says) "Your Story Begins".

My Art Room is where many memories reside through my photos, my mother's rubber stamp collection and where I bring life to my memories through photos, scrapbooking, cardmaking and any thing I can find to keep hands busy, bring a smile through a gift, and keep my heart happy. Geographically, home is Texas City, Tx where I was born, grew up, and lived with my parents and my sisters and brother in Small House. It was brand new when my parents bought it ...I was about 13 and they were so proud of it. It was where I was scolded a little and praised a lot. My family contributed so much to my life and my memories, and I love keeping the memories alive through my stories and photos. My mother was a very young mother (17) when I was born and we were probably more like sisters than mother-daughter. I think we taught each other about motherhood and the memories I have with my sisters and brother, that I absorbed through every day adventures and challenges, were lessons well learned, later well used and became the foundation of my values when I became a mother. Of course, I realize it was my mother's memories as a young woman that led her to a different style of parenting with me...a little harder on me than I would have liked, but I was rewarded with a unique sense of self, a good, healthy dose of self-esteem (you think) a great deal of independence and the ability to love unconditionally. There was a lot of love in Small House and I know so well how difficult it must have been, especially with just one bathroom and 4 kiddos. Something that is unheard of now...one bathroom. If my boys think I am a "Mom story teller" they should only have heard half of her stories and memories.

My Mom (age 57 ),Me (age 40). She baked a birthday cake for me the day this photo was taken and actually topped it with 40 candles.

I came into this world telling my Mom "we've got places to go, things to do and people to see." She knew I wanted my independence early on and I always took a lot of pride in Small House, digging and planting, and the contribution I made as the oldest of four, which was mostly babysitting and housecleaning, which I do no more. Never. Someone else's job! So...I came by my bossiness and independence naturally and then it was home grown from there. Mom was usually up for whatever hobby or sport was interesting me at the time but I wanted my own place and my own space the day I graduated from High School. That I did...moving out of Small House with one bathroom. Boy, were there a couple of bathroom door bangings that only a sister and brother could get into fighting over a bathroom. I've always been a bathroom hog and a closet slob but the rest of any home I've lived in has screamed neatness or so I'm told. Seems to be a fear with most people (except my boys) when they come to my home...but organizing is one of my virtues that haunts me frequently. I sure hope it doesn't take away from the warmth but rather is just a memory of when I used to organize my spices. Not something I got from my mother but from her mother and my Dad. He taught me to keep the garage the cleanest because he said it was what we would see first. True enough, few people ever walk through my front door after the initial visit...from then on it's the backdoor coming into my garage... that still needs more organization!

Remembering the High School days in the '60's. It was the old Terrace Drive Inn in Texas City, on a December Friday night in 1967 where I met my boys' Dad, Terry, a blonde, blue-eyed college senior home for the week-end and playing the "big guy on campus role" cruising around in his fancy new car. I was a senior in high school and we hit it off right away. It only took two years for us to begin our journey together, our chapter of memories, with me always wanting a different house with different wallpaper. He was such a sport about every house needing the right garden, the right paint and the oh so perfect wallpaper. I learned fairly quickly that his very talented Dad, whom I adored, would do just about any odd job I wanted (well, he would do it for anybody - he was that kind of guy) and one of the most valuable was how to lay tile when I didn't like what the builder was going to put in. Having built 3 homes starting at the age of 19, you learn fairly quickly how to negotiate with the builder and get them to come around "your way." Funny thing about that home Terry and I built at age 19. We called it "Westbury Home" like it was a grand estate and to us it was but that was actually the name of the street. I did all the negotiations and we came out with a $150 house note...now can you even imagine? We were actually scared we weren't going to be able to afford that Westbury Home but I just kept us building after that one was finished and we took on 10 acres and Farm House. We built that one ourselves, with GrandPa's help, had our pond and ducks, geese and cats. Bad thing was that moving to the country found me allergic to everything we had but it didn't take but 2 years and hundreds of allergy shots later to get rid of those. I think I was taking the allergy shots longer than we lived in Farm House. On most home projects Grandpa would do it for me but I have many funny memories of Grandpa saying: "No, tell me you didn't get that fancy stuff this time." Of course, in the 1960's foil wallpaper was all the rage and since he had a hard time telling anybody "no" he would try to convince me that he couldn't do it! So I would research it "ad nauseum" only to find out that he knew how all along! In my mind, there wasn't anything that Grandpa couldn't fix or foil, including wallpapering and laying tile in the smallest of bathrooms. He helped build a greenhouse as a Christmas gift to me in 1974 in the backyard of Westbury Home and when I saw it he teasingly asked: "which wall do you want wallpapered?" No wallpaper in that plant-home, he had to install a heating system...that threw him a bit! I spent many days tending to my plants in that little potting shed built with care by Terry and Grandpa. Together they were a construction force to reckon with.

From early married days in the late 1960's through two marriages and I can't begin to count how many homes, I finally moved away from Texas City in 1995 after Sam began studies at Baylor. Through the years, I learned that home is where you are at the time, with your memories, and being with those you love. Single woman that I've been for a very long time, I've been known to tell a date "about the only baggage I carry is my suitcase of memories." The junky stuff I just leave in it's little compartment of my heart and hope I don't need to open it up...it's under lock and key, for the most part, and while some of it may have helped bring me to this point in my life, the sign reads "closed" and I don't choose to travel that path again. Since my my Mom passed away in 2004, I seldom go home to Texas City. People have moved and time has become precious and it's a 5 hour drive from San Antonio to Texas City. While many would ask why I don't fly back home, I like the freedom of driving, being able to stop along the way if something catches my eye and pull out my camera. This month I did just that...packed the car, clothes (couple pairs of shoes :-) and made sure my camera was good to go. Off to Texas City I went for a baby shower for sweet Tracie, daughter of my beloved Sallie, friend of both of my boys, a beautiful wife, wonderful schoolteacher (kiddos you have your hands full :-) and now about to be mother to little Jack David on April 26th.

The Baby Shower:

I stayed the night before with Sam, who now has his own beautiful home and was sport enough to drive me to Texas City on Saturday for the shower. Afterwards, we spent time wandering around Texas City doing drive-bys of our homes, our schools and took photos and chatted all the way about it's change. Samuel Joseph, my youngest.

Photos of his home - he has quite a green thumb but he and his neighbors, Susan, Sandy, Ulrech and Julie work hard to make their townhomes quite a showplace.

The shower brought together seasoned mommies, new mommies and mommies to be and it was good to see friends I hadn't seen in months and catch up with what's going on, listen to new chapters of their lives, and share the new chapter I eagerly await...Grammie To Be. Don't forget to see Little Baby Boy Monitor on blog sidelines. The monitor says he will begin to notice light...probably because it's baseball season. You think? Here is Sue who I've known since we were 10 and 11 with her niece, Kristen, Tracie's big sister, "Sissy" as she is called by many of us, Mommy to Sydney and Blake, beautiful wife, a wonderful school teacher and about to be aunt to little Jack. Visiting Texas City brought back a lot of memories and while most of them are good memories, it's really true (at least for me) "you can't go home.

A little about our drive-bys:

Always having a penchant for pet names of my homes, this house "Big House" because it was and in typical Beverly-style, we even made it bigger adding a game room overlooking the Bay with built in bunks, like a ship. A story soooooo funny, but scary, was the day that Lodie, our beloved housekeeper of 15 years, called and told me she had fallen through the attic behind the boys bunks, landed Doug's 1963 Mustang and was fearful she had dented it. Of course, I was more worried that she was hurt but she picked herself up, dusted herself off and went back to whatever she was doing. What was she doing behind the bunks (the attic over the garage). Surely I didn't have her dusting the insulation...you think? While I don't cook now, in fact the sign says "Kitchen Closed" on my bar, we had lots of large Rotary gatherings at Big House, Family Gatherings and the kids had a great time living in Big House. Well, not to sugar coat this Big House memory... there were some tumultous times (but remember those are locked way) there certainly were good and funny times and even some of the not so good memories are now fun to tell and inevitably bring about laughter. We bought Big House in 1987 and I don't think we ever laid down the hammer (well I think we did lay it down day of the d-i-v-o-r-c-e). The libary was a dark, fake wood paneling and 5 coats of Kiltz later, it was painted a beautiful white enamel, floor to ceiling, overlooking the bay. I wanted our beautiful book collection to fill every shelf that went floor to ceiling on two sides because you know the saying: "The Mind Knows What The Eyes See." At that time Big House was pretty enough to be on the Texas City Christmas Tour of Homes. Carol and I have memories of hanging the Christmas greenery that week-end...fresh sprigs of greenery on the staircase that she rigged with fishing line so it was invisible. I finally had to turn the heater off to keep it from popping loose because of the dry air. Big House had beveled glass doors that I designed with interconnecting hearts and were hand made by my boss' brother in Pearland. At least the doors are still in place and the hearts still interconnected years later.

BIG HOUSE:

and 10 years, a lot of memories left at Big House, and a divorce later, the boys and I moved into "Little House" that now appears to be decorated with a brand new mailbox!

I loved both houses just the same, each with their own personality and memories...skateboarding into the swimming pool while I wasn't watching (bad Stevo), kayaking in the Bay (Doug's idea but Sam was a good sport), dune buggy riding, 4-wheeling on the lot next door of Big House, jogging routes, ski trips and many, many baseball games and school activities combined with a lot of holidays, friends and family.

Little House was special to me as a single Mom. It was the first house I bought on my own without the help of another person, other than those who were along the path and helped me to become an independent woman. Sam decorated Little House's yard for Christmas one year when he was about 12. I came home, took one look and went into a "Tizzy Lizzy moment" as my Mama Rush would say, about the plastic statues in the front yard. Many years later, cleaning out my Mother's attic, I decided to give Sam the plastic statues for his front yard. Oddly enough...he said "absolutely not!" The circle continues round and round. The good thing about memories is that they come in and out of your life and you never know what song or what moment is going to take you back in time. But...back to the present and life as it is now. Home is now San Antonio, the second-largest city in the State of Texas and the seventh largest city in the United States. I lived here the summer the temperature reached an all-time record high of 111 degrees F on 9.5.2000 but wasn't born just yet when it dipped to a record low of 0 degrees F on 1.31.1949. Thank goodness... most of you know I'm cold in almost any air conditioned room. Hey, I'm from Galveston County, a real sun baby, and usually donning a sweater!

When I go back to Texas City now after being in San Antonio for 14 years, it seems like a small community while I always thought I was growing up in a very large place. But compared to when I was growing up and then raising my sons, Texas City has thrived, prospered and survived a lot. There's a new school being built (looks like an elementary school), the hospital is now a retirement home and dear old Texas City High School, where not only I went to high school, my boys' Dad went to high school and our boys went to high school has a new sign at the entrance of the football stadium, a very large new statue of our Mascot and a fresh coat of paint.

Texas City High School appears much smaller due to photographer download error!

Visiting again was like I was living there yesterday but it no longer looks the same. The Texas City Dike is not a recreation area for the locals right now. This dusty skinny road jutted out into the bay with rocks on both sides where your neighbor could be spotted on a Sunday afternoon throwing a line catching who knows what and just "kicking back with a cool one. The Texas City Dike has been quoted in history books as "The World's Longest Fishing Pier", originally built in 1914 to protect the harbor. In the early 1920's, it was extended five miles into the bay but now, post Hurricane Ike, the sign says: "Closed Until Further Notice." Hurricane Ike was a sad occasion for the Texas City Dike but the most tragic moment in Texas City's history occurred on April 16, 1947, when the freighter Grand Camp exploded in the harbor, igniting other fires and explosions along the waterfront and industrial district. Over 500 lives were lost and millions of dollars in damage done in what has been called one of the worst man-made disaster in U.S. history. The anchor of the freighter Grand Camp, which landed hundreds of feet away from the bay, now graces a city park at the entrance to what was the Texas City Dike, resting on a concrete platform outline of the State of Texas, with a star indicating the location of Texas City.

The historical marker along side the Anchor:

Texas City now has a Starbucks...wow, what progress. I grew up having cherry cokes and milkshakes at a little place called Burton's Malt Shop where I could ride my horse up to the door and Danny, the owner, would bring me a cherry coke. Danny later gave me a job (cooking no doubt, maybe that's why I don't like to cook) and it turned into my very first job at age 14 for about $1.00 an hour! As a young Mom, I could go into the corner grocery store for a Diet Coke and a loaf of bread and and "make a new friend" (as Sam would say), but now, I am anonymous to most. My heart, however, still holds the memories. On our drive-by, Sam and I did make a stop at the neighborhood M & M's grocery store by Little House for a soda and while the fellow behind the counter still said the same thing: "How's it going for you today?" he didn't remember my face. When Sam went in there as a kid, he used to ask: "How's business?" referring to Sam's Club. Whatever it took to b

ring a smile to your face...the guy has it down right.

Texas City holds a lot of history that few know about. I was visiting with friends recently about the history of Texas City and my girlfriend, Carol, who was here for a visit a few weeks ago and I were patching together it's history, as we knew it, grew up, and experienced. It's survived two major depressions, at least five major storms: 1900, 1915, 1943, 1961 and Hurricane Ike, just last year. The miracle of Texas City is that it continues to survive, thrive and prosper staring at the face of adversity, especially every Hurricane Season. Despite the hurricanes and Texas City Explosion (as it is known state-wide, if not nation-wide), is that this community that I called home for 45 years has met the challenges and profited through growth and development. I sure hope the Dike reopens in years to come for all the memories it holds for many a starry, starry night. There weren't a lot of places to go on a date, especially if you were absolutely prohibited from driving to Galveston, but I have so many good memories of dates tricking me out to the end of the Texas City Dike telling me "we're going to watch for submarines." Yeow, right. Then, of course, I tricked dates (one in particular) into letting my horse out of his stall. I stalled him at feed time... on purpose... knowing I had a date. Not sure what I would have done if the date had been broken. I think Coco My Jo, as I affectionaly called him, would have stayed penned up all night and I would have had to figure out how to get to the barn before school. Fortunately, I don't remember a date ever cancelling. Lots of good, wholesome memories at that barn. Some really fun times with an older fellow (at least all of two years older than me) named Steve, whose Dad owned the land. We let his pen of capons drink root beer and did everything possible to keep my lamb's teeth in (for show at the Galveston County Fair and Rodeo). He would ride me on his bike from home to the barn in the rain and the cold and the sleet and the snow...that was until he got his driver's license. Good memories except for the really bad tumble I took on the handlebars of his bicycle. I think my knee is still scarred and don't know that I've ever been back on a bike...I know I stay off the handlebars!

Going back to Texas City and returning to my home in San Antonio, where I have lived in one house longer than any other place in my life is a renewal, each and every time. When I drive in, I am always at peace to be in my garage, in my place and surrounded by my "stuff." It is my shelter from the storm and while I have a penchant for pet names, I have not named this house. It is my home and every flowery room, with it's yellow walls (except for the downstairs bath wallpaper that took 7 coats of paint- candy apple red) are a reflection of the people I love and the stuff that has traveled along with me and my memories. I have gone over and over in my mind whether I need to stay in the house and even my son, Sam, has said: "Mom, home is wherever you are. The rest is just stuff." Yes, that is very true but it's my stuff. It's my photos, and the stuff that comforts me and provides the sense of nesting that I need. It's that place where I can clear away any clutter I've accumulated in my mind (not to count any closets) and begin anew. I can put away any issue that might have resurfaced going home and divest myself of any unnecessary chatter in my mind that might creep up from "going back."

Traveling that journey back to Texas City is like looking into the rear view mirror. Growing up where I did, how I grew up and how I moved on has helped define my identity and I wouldn't trade the twists and turns, or the obstacles along the way, for anything. Without those twists and turns I wouldn't have the happiness and peacefulness that I now enjoy. It's a good thing, as Martha would say, to know that I will just keep moving along in life, with memories that I have stored away, and continue to try (and sometimes I have to try hard) to not become rigid with fear or cling to the past. It's a real waste of energy to keep clinging to what once was. I choose to face the future with the happiness I know is in store, not only for me but for the ones I love, and my experiences have taught me I can face any dark moments of life, that I don't have to run if I use good judgment (and believe me I've done my running in the past) but I don't want to run any more...just make smart decisions, move forward and and eagerly await all the good things that I know are little way down my path. For my past and my future, for the people in my past and in my present, I am grateful From My Heart.

A little piece of magic just may come true if you make a wish today!

~Babs