Galveston Texas

I have driven Alice through Texas before (the northern part. I long ago vowed never to cross the widest part again!) but I added eastern Texas to this summer's trip to specifically stop by my great Aunt P's house. She is my grandma's sister, who died 9 years ago (I still can't believe it). 

When I was little, my Aunt P visited California a lot and I understood she was my great aunt in a literal sense. She was always so warm and loving and treated me like I was the only kid in the world; I had no understanding how many kids, grand kids, great grand kids, and great great grand kids she had. That's just the kind of lady she is. 

I spent all day yesterday with her and her daughter E, who lives with her now. Aunt P's son, also E, but let's call him El, lives across the street, and came over after 10pm to share a couple beers and quickly announce I couldn't leave the area until he had taken me fishing, and what the heck was I doing staying at an RV park and not with them? So I am staying the weekend, as El doesn't have a day off till Monday. 

I took my time this morning packing up the trailer, sweeping her out and wiping down the counters to show her off to this branch of family they forced me to admit I haven't seen them in 17 years. 

Last night, Aunt P started talking about great grandma Ruby and how when she would visit, she wanted to go to the beach. P doesn't care for the beach but wouldn't say no to her mama, but she asked why she liked to go so much? Ruby liked to look for seashells. Some as gifts, and some to bury in her garden to add calcium to the soil. I thought, oh, my collecting is genetic! If Ruby didn't find a shell she liked, she'd buy some in the shell shops. 

This morning, I had to take Alice to look for shells one more time, even though I knew Aunt P was waiting for us. It was a beautiful day, and I got some nice pictures, and as I walked for shells, I wondered if I was on the same beach Great Grandma Ruby had hunted on. I passed a shell shop founded in 1910. It could be the same one she shopped 50 years ago! As I picked out a few, I suddenly saw a small orange shell, and realized it was the same one I'd found in the little suitcase she had given me as a child for an overnight bag. After 30 years, I finally know where it came from.