No matter how many times I've been to Corsicana, the morning always arrived when it was time to go home. It's the worst day. I'm not sure how long I could stay before I'd be ready to go home. I used to think the appeal was Gran and Grandma only, but since they've been gone, I still love to be there. It'd be wonderful to have them sitting on the porch as I came and went, but that's just a melancholy thought. But even without them, there will always be a Corsicana to visit. I'm grateful for that. A friend of mine who'd never been there recently stopped by the farm on her way to Austin, and in the short time she was there, she said she got the appeal of the place. It's simple, yet unexplainable. There's a peace that exists there that I've never experienced anywhere else on earth.
So, knowing that Gran sold a piece of property loaded with oil (he had no idea at the time) and bought this little plot of land on the corner in the country....which would I choose? You can't put a price on memories. But if I could, I'd be a millionaire.
In fact, I think I am.
No commentary, just familiar faces doing what we do in Corsicana.
1 comment:
If that had music I would have cried. Lovely.
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