Goodbye Houston

8 July 2013

We serendipitously arrived at the Adickes sculpture just as a crane was preparing to deconstruct it. The men had already taken down the portion of the sculpture that reads “We love” and all that was left was “Houston.” The crane hovered menacingly over the “H.” Jason, Holley and I ran over to the crew with our cameras in hand.  Holley yelled, “This is her last day in Houston!  We need to take pictures!”

The men backed the crane away and patiently indulged us in our nostalgic photo session.  They even gave us a ladder so we could climb up into the sculpture and perch ourselves within the letters that made up the name of our beloved city.  Before we overstayed our welcome, we climbed down from the scaffolding and just as we made it across the street, the crane removed the “H” from sculpture.  “Goodbye, Houston,” I said and then it hit me; this was really happening.  Today I would drive away from Houston for good.  I had been so occupied with the business of packing, moving, graduating and celebrating that I had not fully realized the weight of the concept that an era of my life was coming to an end.  I started to cry and within a moment, found myself in the middle of a three-way embrace with Holley and Jason.  These were happy tears.

When I moved to Houston three years ago, I had no expecations.  I had made a tough decision to leave my residency program in Connecticut after what had been the most challenging year of my life on nearly every level.  Little did I know at that time that my move to Houston would mark such a pivotal moment in my life.  I was on the cusp of great change.  I was just emerging from the sadness of a painful break-up.  After four years in the kind of relationship that left me feeling raw and derailed, I was finally ready to rediscover myself.  Houston was the backdrop to that journey.  It wasn’t long before I was welcomed into the sweaty but loving arms of that city.

On the surface, Houston seemed like an overwhelming large concrete jungle, but I quickly learned that it is really the smallest big city I have ever known.  It wasn’t long before I discovered the personality of its many diverse, quirky neighborhoods and varied subcultures.  Soon I found myself recognizing the same friendly faces around town.  By the time I left Houston, it was rare for me to go on an errand or outing and not run into someone I knew, even in the fourth largest city in America.

Houston is not the kind of city that puts all of its rewards right in your face like New York or San Francisco.  It isn’t until you start to scratch through the outer layer, strike up a conversation with a stranger, read the free weekly press, that you really discover the gems that this city has to offer.  There are a plethora of non-pretentious incredible spots to eat and drink, free outdoor concerts and performances, hipster cafes, farmers markets, eclectic art displays and instillations, parks, breweries, and the representation of nearly every foreign culture one could imagine.  While in Houston, I tried so many new things that enriched my life; each novel experience leading me to the next.  From impromptu two-step dance lessons from middle-aged men at Blancos, to crystal bowl meditation sessions at yoga studios to delving into the athletic communities of cycling, crossfit and even hash-running.  I began to see that Houston had so much to offer if you just looked for it.

Even greater than what I learned about Houston, I learned about Texas as a whole.   After a few years, I finally understood why the inhabitants of this state are so fiercely loyal to their “heritage.”  Northeasterners can be cold, gruff, and blunt upon first meeting, but over time will let down their walls, treat you like family, and tell it like it is.  Southerners act with the utmost of politeness and hospitality to all, but you never quite know where you stand.  Do they really like you? Or were they just exercising good manners?  Westerners are friendly in a relaxed fashion; they will chit-chat with a stranger, but keep their distance, taking time to let a new person in. 

Texans seem to have the best of all of these qualities.  They are a genuinely friendly group of people, to the point where you feel welcomed and at ease without feeling patronized.  Texans are straight shooters, but they typically manage to be blunt and honest in a pleasant manner.  If you give a little, you get a lot from a Texan.  Once you start to open up, they let you right in.  You can go from stranger to part of the family over the course of a few hours.  And then you are family just like everyone else, no special privileges.  “Get down and dirty now because you are one of us.”  No strangers have ever welcomed and embraced me more than Texans have.  With a family from College Station, all it took was sharing beers while we waited in line for BBQ together that made us family.  With a grandfather I met two-stepping in Austin, a few dances and some deep conversations about our lives was all it took one night to make a life-long friend. 

On my last night in Houston, I looked around at the people who had gathered at the icehouse to say goodbye and realized that I have never had a better conglomeration of friends in my life than I had in Texas.  Friends from the hospital showed up in scrubs, cycling friends rolled in on bikes from their evening ride, Crossfit friends came sweaty from the WOD, and close friends baked cakes, made posters, and wrote heart-felt cards.  I took a brief moment between the laughs, beers, and hugs, to take it all in, and I felt my heart swell with happiness.  I realized that the last three years in Houston had truly been the best of my life: full of personal growth and self discovery, fierce friendships, positive energy, amazing meals, quirky characters, sweaty bike rides, humbling 5am work-outs, long days at the hospital, and endless laughter.  When I moved to Houston, I think I was fortunate enough to be in a phase where the canvas of my life was freshly cleaned and ready for new paint.  Today I feel as though I leave Texas with a quirky but beautiful work of art that I am proud to display to the world outside.  Somewhere in the midst of the streaks of paint on that canvas you will find the outline of the state of Texas with a heart over Houston.  This is my ode to that town.