The big, smooth cement porch and high tin roof still stand. The roof and beams erected from a kit ordered through the Sears and Roebuck Company catalog in the 40’s or 50’s by the grandfather I never knew. The large round fire pit, built into the middle of the slab, full of a blazing and crackling fire built by the 3rd generation of kids to grow up at its edges; fueled by “eye ball” oak and mesquite wood collected on the ranch that day.
Headlights break the dark, dark night; truck doors slam, and voices emerge and spill cousins and friends onto the big wide porch. Shadows and silhouettes and multiple generations of descendants gather to warm, reminisce and drink by the family fire. Voices, laughter, love and belonging mingle with the smoke and past to fly heavenward on a clear, cold and starry Texas night.