Writing Sample

**Found this piece of work in my computer files.  Not sure the purpose for which I wrote this, but I found the content interesting.**

“I am four years old!”  This was my first conscious moment of self-awareness as I stood in the front yard of my home in Austin, Texas.  The sun was shining brightly as I stood under the shade of the house eaves, gazing upon the Chinese Tallow Mom had planted years ago.  The shadow it cast almost touched the curb as it made an outlined impression on the green grass of the yard.  That moment of self-remembrance must have been enough for my small mind that day, because I remember little else.  My life must have been in a fog of transition from dependence on others to quasi self-awareness.  At some point in time I made the leap to constant cognizance of the world around me.  There weren’t any more gaps in the course my life would take.  From then on, I remember living in Austin, enjoying the fruits of childhood, and playing with my two friends across the street.  Later on I would learn these friends were adopted sons of the man and woman who resided there.  Adopted?  To a child of four years old, and even now, that means nothing as I knew they were real playmates, bosom buddies of the neighborhood.  In the summer of 1979 my family, including me, made a trip to Yoakum, Texas, to the vacant house of my father’s parents. The paternal grandparents had recently passed away within the previous few years.  In fact, I remember sitting in the pew of the Lutheran Church eyeing a casket near the pulpit of the church.  I was told this was one of my grandparents, but my young, inexperienced mind could not process the concept of death.  Living in Austin, I vaguely remember periodically visiting Grandpa and Grandma Schwab in Yoakum.  For some strange reason, probably due to unfamiliarity, I was scared of them.  Scared may not have been the right word for the feelings I had, but I do remember a sense of shyness and a strong hesitation toward them.  Having lived in Austin the first almost six years of my life, I was more accustomed to my mom’s parents.  We often visited them because of the close proximity in which we lived.  This was to become no more as I learned of the permanence of our trip to Yoakum.  A mere trip was a move of residence some hundred miles away from everything I knew.  How could this happen without consultation?  Why was I not asked about my opinion in the matter?  Even at a young age I knew my one-third decision-making power in the family should stand for something.  One day we arrived home, parking the car in the garage.  Immediately upon getting out of the backseat, I told Mama, “Let’s go see Grandma and Grandpa!”  Of course the response let out any remaining air of hope in exchange for the reality of the situation.  We now lived two hours away and simply could not visit anytime I wished.  Knowing how much I loved hugging my pillow while I slept, Mama made a poor attempt at easing the situation.  She simply informed I could now hug my pillow just the same here in my new home.  Even at a young age, I knew this was a sham answer.  Deflated and broken hearted, I headed in to the house and sulked.  From 1979 to 1994 I grew up in Yoakum, Texas, a small, rural town in what I thought was the middle of nowhere.  Many times my small heart yearned for Austin and the life that could have been.  Most people, even though I wasn’t from here, thought I should consider this home.  Much later in life I would find difficulty in answering such a simple question as, “Where are you from?”  I probably make the answer too convoluted, but to make it simple I casually state Houston is home.  (More on this later.)  One of the advantages of making a move at such a young age is the idea of beginning and ending the state mandated education in one school district.  There wouldn’t be any uprooting from any perceived classmate friends or disruption in the quality of education.  Up till the junior high school years, life went by as if I hadn’t known any better.  Summer activities of swimming and other sports, I fared quite well in this country town.  Once puberty and adolescence hit, I started to have this instinct something was amiss.