My very first memory of you is when you were very, very small, perhaps only a month or so old. Vickie and I served together on some church board (the Session?) that met frequently. Vickie quickly learned how much I enjoy holding beautiful babies and on several occasions, she walked into the room, handed you to me and went about her business. I enjoyed every minute. You were cuddlely.
But I go way back in a very casual way with both sides of your family. Many years ago, Moo and I took a couple of classes together one summer at Texas A&M and I probably met her little girl named Vickie then. Some years later, Texas A&M President Frank Vandiver introduced me to a dashing new history professor by the name of Bubba Buenger—it was some time before I learned that he actually had a proper name of Walter. For several years, young Dr. Buenger was the object of admiring glances from the single ladies on campus. Then he met Vickie and all the other ladies were ignored.
I have enjoyed watching you grow up on pretty much a Sunday by Sunday basis. Seeing you dressed for church probably isn’t a fair representation of the “real” Erin. But I do remember that marvelous cape you wore to church several years ago. You looked so cute in it that I was inspired to buy a similar cape for one of my granddaughters’ birthday; Avery loves it.
And then I learned that you liked horses and that you were going to learn to ride. And that gave us something in common besides (and it’s a big besides) First Presbyterian Church.
(And that reminds me of something I should have asked you ages ago. Did you read the old books I gave to Davis at church one morning and asked him to give to you? Did you enjoy them? They were My Friend Flicka, Thunderhead and Green Grass of Wyoming. Those were my favorites when I was a girl and I will admit [even at my age] that I am still so fond of them that my copies do not leave my house. Yours are used ones that I found on Ebay.)
Let me share a little bit about me. I was reared in Beeville, a smallish town in south Texas. I grew up helping my dad with his cattle and playing, though not particularly well, just about every sport available to girls in the dark ages. My late husband and I moved here in 1964 when he joined the journalism faculty at A&M. Our two younger sons were born after we moved here; I took care of our three little boys and did a lot of volunteer work until our youngest started school. Then I began working at Texas A&M and had many really neat experiences and, like any job, some that were not quite so neat. I worked with your dad’s friend, Frank Vandiver, and thoroughly enjoyed writing speeches and other things for him, mostly because he was such a beautiful writer and a truly gifted speaker himself. (If Frank said my work was good, I knew it was.) We moved to the country (just eight and a half acres) when the boys were little. They fished in the neighborhood tank, raised 4-H project animals, and at various times, we had a calf, horses, a burro, lambs, chickens, dogs, cats and the like. I retired a couple of years ago.
The now adult “boys” are married, live in the Dallas area and have the smartest, best looking children ever. Chris is the oldest. He and his wife have two daughters (five and one) and a son (three) and he is first assistant city attorney for Dallas. Dan is the “middle” son. He and his wife have a daughter (Avery, above, almost eight) and a son (two); Dan is a pediatric oncologist at UT-Southwestern in Dallas, doing the same types of things that your doctors in Houston do. And Scott is the youngest (by a year and two weeks). He and his wife have a son (eight) and a daughter (four). He is a computer engineer and works for EDS in Plano. So, I have seven grandchildren and the oldest is eight. Great fun. We all had a super week on Crystal Beach in July, before Hurricane Ike flattened that area. So sad.
I like to travel and have been back to Europe twice (Scotland and Greece) since I retired. Some friends and I are in the beginning stages of planning to rent a river barge in France next year. I also enjoy going to A&M sports events, playing cards and other games and reading. Since retirement, I admit that I am pretty worthless some days.
And now to you. There is so much about you that I admire: your faith, your sense of humor, your intelligence, your love of horses and your gumption. Gumption is an old-fashioned word that my grandmother used. If you aren’t familiar with it, look it up in a dictionary. I think you will like that description. It’s good to have gumption.
Please know that you are in my prayers…and that I still would like to watch you ride. Take care and Godspeed.
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