I suppose that the nineteen nineties were in many ways one of the best decades of my lifetime. My husband, Mike, and I were doing well in our careers while our daughters were becoming the incredible women we had hoped they would be. I was enjoying my friendships and great times with the extended families of my brothers and cousins. Mike and I were traveling and feeling quite content with our lives and the world around us. While my mother’s mental illness was chronic, my brothers and I had learned how to help her to mostly keep the symptoms under control. I was a happy middle aged woman who was confident that I was living my best life. I also understood the fragility of existence and remained ever ready to shift course when occasions called for change. 

When my daughter, Maryellen, announced that she and her husband were moving from Beaumont to Indiana I adjusted even as I felt a sadness that she would be so far away from home. I had the ability to visit her a couple of times a year and she in turn would come back to Texas on holidays. She and husband, Scott, found good jobs in Lafayette, the home of Purdue University. They were doing well enough financially to invest in a beautiful house located in a neighborhood surrounded by corn fields and good people. I felt that she was building her new life and her independence in a wonderful way. 

I enjoyed visiting Maryellen and Scott and did so as often as possible. Sometimes Mike and I drove there and other times I flew on my own. I delighted in the sights and people of Indiana who seemed to be treating my girl so well. I also enjoyed the adventures that we took whenever I visited. I learned that Indiana is much more interesting than I might have otherwise thought. 

I attended my first state fair there, sampling pies and pickles and viewing livestock. I enjoyed a nearby town that hosted an apple festival each fall and boasted a restaurant that served hearty soups and homemade breads that were delicately crunchy on the outside and soft in the middle. I visited Indianapolis and saw the 500 race track for the first time. I enjoyed the incredible variety of a daylily farm and even laughed at a town that had built a replica of the Alamo in honor of the famous Texas battle. I got to see the place where the movie Hoosiers was filmed and walked through the campus of the University of Notre Dame where I smiled at the sight of “Touchdown Jesus.” I also learned that Chicago was only two hours away and found myself literally falling in love with that amazing city each time we took a day trip there.

I always felt a bit sad whenever I had to leave Maryellen but I knew that I would find a way to return soon. I was proud that she was forging her own way in the world and wanted her to feel free to develop herself according to her own desires. Soon, however, I would find myself wishing that she lived a little closer to my home when she announced that she was expecting a baby, my first grandchild. 

The summer before he was born she and I painted the bedroom that would be the nursery. We created a border of whimsical trains along the ceiling and set up the crib and other furniture. Maryellen made a visit to Houston for a baby shower lovingly hosted by my dear friend Linda who went all out with her always amazing food and hospitality. Everyone important in our lives came and the atmosphere was so joyful and generous. Maryellen left with a car filled with every possible baby item that she might ever need. 

As September came we held our breaths in anticipation of the birth. I kept busy with my work at school. It was early in the academic year so there was much to do that distracted me. Finally Scott called to tell us that Maryellen was in labor. On September 26, a healthy baby boy that they named Andrew entered the world for the first time. He was born “over Texas soil” because Scott had asked us to bring some dirt from our yard in a sealed tin can on our most recent visit to Indiana. We obligingly purchased a container emblazoned with a scene from Texas on its lid then placed a shovel full of good old coastal Texas gumbo inside. Scott was able to convince the doctor to place the container under the bed where Maryellen lay as the birth took place. To this day we tell Andrew that he was born in Indiana but he came to life on Texas ground. 

Of course Mike and I both took off time to rush to Indiana to see the beautiful baby boy and to help Maryellen with chores around the house. It was one of the most wonderful times ever. Andrew was a cuddly baby who was inclined to spend hours sleeping on someone’s chest. Every once in awhile he would squint with one open eye making us laugh with delight. We noted that when he gave us that little glance he resembled “the dread pirate Roberts” from the movie The Princess Bride. He was indeed the center of our family’s joy, our cute little dread pirate who made all of our hearts flutter with unadulterated love.