Leaving Home

It was on or about September 1, 1960. My mother had driven me the 100 miles from our home in southwest Houston to College Station, Texas. I had been accepted and enrolled as a freshman in the Texas A&M Corps of Cadets in the Pre-Veterinary Medicine curriculum.

Accompanied by my two younger sisters, Karen and Debbie, still in elementary school at the time, Mother and I made our way to the YMCA building on campus where pre-registration and academic orientation were scheduled to occur. My older sister Carol had already begun living independently and Dad was working that day. Thus both were unable to join us on this trip.

In addition to anxiety connected with moving away from home for the first time, what I remember most about that day was the tearful parting as my mother and sisters walked down the YMCA steps toward the car and the journey back home. There was a palpable four-way sense of at least a temporary loss. A natural response in any such circumstance, but new to us.

Three months earlier I had graduated from Bellaire High School and had spent the summer living at home, working with my father in the meat department of Lewis and Coker grocery stores in Houston. That job and a scholarship were the sources of my self-funded education.

My high school years were non-spectacular. I wasn’t on the honor roll. Nor a super star athlete. Just focused on home chores and agricultural pursuits. We lived on three acres, which allowed my involvement in vocational agriculture and Future Farmers of America projects.

That included raising for stock show competition a “fat” steer, four market calves, and two Hampshire pigs. In my younger days, Dad and I raised 150 rabbits, along with chickens, a milk cow, and nine sheep. My departure from home meant that all those chores and non-academic interests were no longer a part of my life, adding to the sense of loss that day in 1960.

As it turned out, we all survived the temporary trauma of my leaving home.

The point of this story is that what my family and I experienced 59 years ago is not unique to any one family. It happens throughout our land and across the globe. It’s a natural and normal part of the maturation process. People who have lived their entire or major part of life at home with family members are, sooner or later, faced with the departure of one of those beloved family members.

Sometimes that separation, as in my case, is the result of academic or work-related pursuits. At other times, delinquency, divorce, or death are the causative factors. Be that as it may, for many if not most families, the leaving home of one member of the family produces a very real sense of loss.

At such times, the promise of the Lord to Joshua, both to those who leave and to those who remain, is poignant: “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” Josh. 1:5

Another Move

House 1Not long ago Terry and I counted the number of times we’ve moved since our marriage on January 29, 1966, which was also my 23rd birthday. But I digress. The number we counted at that time was 15. Earlier this week, that number climbed to 16.

A few of our close friends and colleagues knew before the move occurred. We didn’t know exactly where we were going to end up, so we spoke in general terms to them and many others who had heard the rumor. To all who inquired we emphasized the primary reason for this move—to eliminate the beautiful but rapidly becoming onerous winding stairway with 18 steps.

Terry and I considered the reality that someday I might not be able to climb those steps to get to my study. In addition, many of the folks who come to our home for an overnight stay are close to or even beyond my age. That generates concerns for their stairway safety and, in some cases, creates impenetrable barriers to their access to our guest rooms, all upstairs.

Of course, we have liability insurance, which we hope will never be used. Oh, one more thing— I’m often the one who ends up carrying our guests’ 40-pound luggage up and down the stairs, which is always happily done, yet somewhat cumbersome, to say the least!

Not yet having succeeded in finding a home that meets our needs, we are temporarily ensconced in a very nice, significantly smaller, fairly new, single story rental home, awaiting clarity on move #17. We anticipate that will occur next spring.

Those who have moved recently enough to remember can testify that the process is always interesting, sometimes traumatic, often exciting. This move for us, and the one to follow, is a strange mixture of all these emotions. Perhaps I’ll keep you posted.

In the meantime, tiring and testing though it has been, this move, like most of the others, has generated within us a strange sense of calling. That includes the clear hand of God in the selling of our previous home and the purchase of the new one yet to come. We’re excited to see how it all turns out, clearly convinced that home is where the heart is and where God is honored!