|
During my wedding the best man got up and said "if you've ever been to Killeen, you know that there's not too much to do except get out of it." I don't think I felt that until I went home this weekend. I'm from Austin, but my early years were formed in Killeen. My parents are from there, they still go back for yearly block parties, Granny's house was there until the early 90's, spent summers there, still have Aunts and Uncles there and my god parents are out near there in Harker Heights still.
You don't always get a good look at things until you go back. And that's what home felt like this weekend. The 7/11 that my parents met at, that me and my cousins would take quarters to, gone. The house that my dads mom used to live in, condemned. The creek that we caught turtles in with string and bacon, dried up, but still windinf through the trailer park.
It was the first time I got to take my wife there, and say, this is where I really come from. She's been to Texas with me, seen Austin, but everywhere is changed. The old spots there are new yoga studios, shared work spaces, and coffee shops. There's white people on the east side now. But nobody is trying to gentrify Killeen.
We went up Saturday, to see my god mother, I don't think I've been up there in at least 8 or so years. Sat around with my family talking cars, kids, watching the museum opening, jobs, just life. It was good. It was comfortable, it was familiar.
Saturday night was my good friend's wedding, the reason we went down in the first place. It was a good time. Saw some people I'm close to, some that we've grown apart, some that we broke each other's hearts. And again I was reminded that you don't always get a good look at things until you go back. I thought Houston would always be my life, that these were the friends that I'd always have, the jobs I'd work, the people I'd care for. And now, I'm grateful that I left. So glad that home and memories can still exist, even if you don't have to remain in them. ------ “There is no fate that cannot be surmounted by scorn.” -Albert Camus
|