Life's Dirt Road

As a child, I walked this old dirt road; kicking a rock along the path and daydreaming about when I grow up and all the wonders I would see. I skipped many rocks across the waters of the Trinity River and Lake Livingston. I remember laying on the ground next to Momma and watching the clouds in the sky. I can still feel my heart beating in my throat as I raced across the valley pasture toward the fence of safety, with Goliath the Brahma bull chasing me on my heels. I can’t count the nights we spent catching fireflies in Momma’s mason jars.

You paved the way to my wedding day and guided each new baby home to the hilltop. I watched you take a beating from log trucks and shared in the laughter 4 wheelers brought. You mourned with us as the Hearst carried Momma and Daddy away. When you received a black top facelift, you and Jordan enjoyed hours of skateboarding. You chaperoned Magan, Charlie, and Sabrina as they walked hand in hand with their boyfriends. Together we watched the children grow into adults, and marriage & parenthood. And with pride, you welcomed home a fourth generation of children to our hilltop.

It brings me a smile. You were there for me to learn to drive, the kids to skateboard, and the grandchildren to ride bikes. When the band returns home from gigging, you can hear a sign of relief when they see you in their sights, because they made it home. We have grown old together my friend, but the time has come to say goodbye.

So, when a new family moves onto our hilltop, I pray the road home will keep them safe for generations to come.

To whoever makes this hilltop home, treat her good. She has been home to my parents, to me and my husband, to Jordan, Magan, Luke, and Charlie. She watched boys grow to men, and girls to women. She has nourished our family with produce and farm life. She has shaded Zildjian, Mahaya, River, and Dixon under these Texas skies, while their parents sang them lullabies. We have sweated, bled, and poured dreams into her. Treat her good, and she will treat you better.

Momma K

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