by Tonya Barton

Created on: February 20, 2008

"Dear Dad, By the time you read this my daughter and I will be long gone and headed for Texas." That was how mom's letter to grandpa began. More significant than the way it began though, was the way it ended.

I was sixteen when mom decided it was time for a change. "We're moving to Texas" she said. It was mid-summer and life was good. Texas had not been part of my summer agenda and I begged mom for us not to move. Despite my pleas, within a two week period she had made all the necessary arrangements for us to relocate from California to rural Texas.

The only extended family we had in the area were grandma and grandpa. Of course with it being summer and all they were out doing what many retired couples do, traveling in their RV. I spent much of my childhood traveling and staying with my grandparents. Grandpa was the dad I never had. I anxiously awaited their return so I could tell them good-bye.

Moving day crept up all too quickly. We loaded up a U-Haul trailer and mom hitched it to the nineteen seventy-something Ford LTD clunker she owned. My friends came by to see me off just as we were ready to leave. Saying good-bye to my high school friends felt a lot like my first break-up. It seemed impossible to hold back the tears as mom and I drove away and they stood waving.

I was sure on our way out of town we'd make a stop, and we did. It wasn't the stop I was thinking of though. I had thought for sure we would make a detour to grandma and grandpas house to say our good-byes there. I knew they were suppose to return from their travels the previous day. Instead, mom pulled into the post office. She parked along curb, reached into her purse and pulled out a letter. The letter was addressed to my grandpa. I sat silent and stunned, realizing she had no intention of telling them good-bye in person.

As we hit the highway, I felt like I was in a state of mourning. Little did I know how accurate my feelings would soon come to be. The drive to Texas would take us three full days. Along the way, I would be distracted from my sadness by the radio or things along the road I'd never seen before. We ate a lot of hamburgers and french fries and slept at rest areas during the night.

Finally, we pulled up to our new home. I stood glaring at it from the outside realizing it didn't feel like home at all. There wasn't a single blade of green grass in sight, but there was plenty of what appeared to be, red clay. Which in the coming days would often suck my shoe right off my foot, as I

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