We're still in Brownsville. Where it all started. My story. My life. This place is my roots. Every time I come back it is harder to leave. There are so many memories here. So many places I know. The picture you see is the house my parents brought me home to. My first home. The drive way looks so small. When I played on it I remember it feeling miles long. I performed many shows on that porch. And every time I climbed the trellis, I always got into trouble. I have family here. Aunts, uncles, cousins. Seeing them always fills me up with love. Picking up where we last left off. Being surrounded by my history recharges me until my next visit. Home.
Hope the time change hasn't thrown you for a loop. Take a minute to think about your roots today.
More from the 'camino' later.
-B Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®