Feels Like Home...

Happy Thursday
I wrote an essay yesterday that's a "research/personal hybrid" essay. It basically means I do some research on something that I relate to myself, and then I mix that research with my personal thoughts and/or memories. Hope y'all like it.

Feels Like Home…

Canyon, Texas is a small city just outside Amarillo. In the 2010 census, the population was 13,303. In 2010, my grandparents were a part of that population.

I lived in Canyon most summers of my childhood. For three months, I would be able to eat pancakes at any time of the day—always paired with a Snapple bottle, washed out and refilled with milk.

My cousin lived in Canyon with our grandparents. Our summers were filled with silly adventures acted out on a trampoline—jumping around and pretending we were different people. After an hour we’d get tired enough to go inside and play Mario, Sonic, or Zelda. The fun never ended as long we were together.

Canyon lies in a valley that eventually becomes the Palo Duro Canyon. Palo Duro is home to the world-famous outdoor musical Texas, which plays every summer. I’ve seen that play at least five times.

The first time I saw Texas, I was with my entire family: my grandparents, cousins, sister, aunts, my uncle, and my dad. It was magical. Before every performance, right at sunset, a man on a horse will ride across the top of the canyon holding the Texas flag. The whole crowd, including me, goes insane with Texan pride.

The last time I saw the play, it was just me, my sister and my cousin. But it was still just as magical as the first time I saw it.

Canyon is home to West Texas A&M University. Some of my dad’s side of the family went there. They have a waterpark inside the school. Looking back, it wasn’t anything fancy. One slide, a lazy river, whirlpool, and a kiddie section, but when I was 10, it might as well have been Hurricane Harbor. I spent hours there with my family.

The average low temperature during Christmas time is around 25 degrees Fahrenheit. I have never seen more snow than when I spent the holidays in Canyon. I never packed properly. My dad would always make runs to Walmart to buy warm socks and boots to keep my feet dry, but he never complained, at least I don’t think he did.

The city motto is Feels Like Home… and it always did. I hated leaving my grandparents house every summer. The 6-hour drive home often felt like a drive away from home. If I could relive one moment of my life, I would choose any day out of any one of those summers—a day where I would wake up at 9:00 a.m., and have my granny waiting for me at the dining table, my pawpaw making breakfast in the kitchen, and a Snapple bottle full of milk.

In 2010 my granny was a part of the Canyon population. In 2011 she wasn’t. That was my last summer spent there.