I did not cry when she hugged me goodbye. I cried on the way home though. I also cried on the way to her house early that Thursday morning…and the night before. My little sister was on her way to a new life in Austin…and with the rest of my family in San Antonio that left me here in Houston, all by myself.
I didn’t cry because of that, though. I cried because after living together in Houston with only each other as family for the past three and a half years, I regretted not spending more time with her and my niece and nephew. You always look back and think of the times you could have made the drive up there—there were always times—but on that day, at that moment, it seemed like there was always too much to do.
I didn’t cry because I was being left alone in Houston. I cried because it reminded me of when the house we grew up in was being sold and we had to move in with our grandma. We went from our familiar, always there neighborhood with our friends and our school right across the street to our grandma’s on the other side of town.
Leading up to her move, I would go and help her pack. By the time the movers were packing up the trailer there was nothing left but to sweep and mop. I looked at all the boxes waiting their turn in line to take a road trip up 290 and I realized that I don’t ever remember my parents having boxes ready to go. I don’t know if I put that out of my mind or if they just put them in the garage but even then the house never seemed empty like my sister’s house did.
All I remember is the weekend came and our aunt came by and told us we were going to spend the night with her (which was always fun). The next evening we were at my grandma’s house with our aunt and my parents showed up and we never left…well, at least for a few years. Then from there we moved to our other grandma’s, then my father’s brother and then with my mother’s sister before my parents finally had enough to buy the house they live in now.
On the Tuesday before the move, my sister made a reference to our short time being, in all respects, homeless for a time.
We had finished packing for the day and were sitting at the table having sandwiches. My nephew asked where I lived before my current place. So I told him.
“What about before that Tio?” he asked. So I told him before that one and the one before that and so on. I really have lived in so many places.
My sister was next. She mentioned the house and the apartment before that when she first moved to Houston. She mentioned her college apartment and dorm room in College Station when she attended Texas A&M. Then she mentioned our parent’s house but then stopped and said “Well, I won’t even go into our childhood.”
I didn’t say anything then, but it saddened me to think that she couldn’t even go back there. I didn’t know about that. I felt sad at times but when I look back at it now, it just seemed like one big slumber party. Maybe it affected her more than I, or anyone else in my family, ever realized.
To our parent’s credit we never knew we were saying goodbye to the only house we ever knew (well, at least I didn’t). We were simply going to go and stay with our Tia. So there were no tears, no sad goodbyes to our friends Chris and Charlie and David and Gilbert. There was no seeing the house that held so many memories standing empty and cold. There was no looking back through the rear window to see the life we had always known slipping away. It was just another day in a new room, a few questions and some sadness every now and then.
Throughout that week leading up to her departure, I wondered just how my little sister was feeling. I wondered how she would handle having to leave her first real home and her first real neighbors that really were like neighbors that I remember growing up. I wondered how she would get through her first time at having to say the goodbyes that my parents had to say 20 years ago.
Well, she handled it better than I think I would have but that is how it has always been and that is how she is. I know she is sad but I also know she is strong. She may be my little sister, but throughout our lives, she has always been more like the older sibling.
I will miss her being so close but I know that she will start anew and make an even better life in Austin—despite the fact that she will be surrounded by Longhorns (or T-sips, as Aggies like to call them).
