Dulcie Brand

 One of my oldest college friends died last weekend,  Dulcie Brand was a force of nature.  Brilliant, brash, independent, set in her convictions, and all around fun.   Was so driven that you knew she would be successful, and indeed she was an amazing and accomplished attorney.  She was an incredible sister and aunt.  She was a fiercely loyal friend who I turned to during two of the most difficult situations in my life, and never once wavered in her support.   She was a life long Democrat, and was proud of it.  She was liberal and cared about the greater good much more than she did about individual success, while still enjoying the finer things in life.  She was adventurous and brave, and a mentor to many young attorneys and women who looked up to her and all she had accomplished.  She loved good food, she loved to travel, she loved to cook, and she loved the farmers market on Sunday mornings, often cooking the prizes scored there the very day she found them.  She loved Texas A&M and Aggie football, while still seeing the flaws of the Aggie culture.   Cotton bowls, countless football games, tailgating, pre and post game celebrations at the farm.... I have so many memories over the years with Dulcie......like the Young Democrats convention in Austin,  election night when Jimmy Carter won, the state Democratic Convention in Houston,  the Conehead ring toss at the MSC, the AstroBluebonnet bowl when we lost to USC, countless Aggie football games including the biggest come from behind loss to UCLA in the Rose Bowl in 109 degree heat.  Dinner at Gabriel Kruether in NYC, seeing "Carousel" on Broadway, seeing "Once" at the Pantages in LA and hating it with me famously saying they called it once because you would never see it again!  I hosted her in Philly and met her friends Nancy, Stuart and Rick. She joined me for Mardi Gras my last year in New Orleans and my friend Julie Rodrigue christened her "Dulcie the Mardi Gras Virgin" and calls her that to this day.  She wore a emerald green gown to the Krewe of Mystic Ball that we attended with the Riddicks, and helped me host a party to watch the Krewe of Thoth parade where we served chili to about a hundred people!  We met in San Francisco and stayed at the Fairmont and rode the cable cars and ate seafood and Chinese and walked and shopped with a purpose.   She met me in Amsterdam to go and visit my brother and his family in Belgium where we visited the Keukenhof during the height of tulip season.  I remember one visit to LA where we saw an amazing Chagall exhibit and another with Calder stabiles and mobiles.  There are so many memories over the 47 years that I knew her.  A beautiful collage of memories, tastes, sights and her trademark laughter.

I also remember being with her and her mom Adele when they brought her brother Jim to MD Anderson in Houston for treatment, and consoling her when they ultimately lost him.  I also remember eating spanakopita at her Moms house in Ft Worth, the pies they bought at a church and kept at the ready for company dropping in.  Dulcie was the consummate host and loved to entertain, just like her mom and sisters.  She could be loud and quick to annoy and had a firm opinion about most everything, but you always knew where she stood, and where you stood with her.  I loved my dear friend, in spite of her flaws, and she loved me, in spite of mine.  Over the years we fought some of the same demons.......ones brought about by success and the resultant loneliness that can come with it,  as well as the seduction of food and drink which periodically controlled our lives, demons which ultimately and sadly took hers.  Rest in heavenly peace and love and light Dulcie Brand.  You live in my heart and in those of your beloved family and friends.

The First Week of March

Over the years the first week of March has always held significance in my life. Of course growing up in Texas the first thing that it signals is the approach of spring and the best weather of the year. It also heralds the approach of wildflower season where bluebonnets, paint brushes, red phlox and many other varieties. In the Robinson family it also was Rodeo time.....with the Katy FFA rodeo that my grandfather LD Robinson in the forties. As kids we couldnt wait for the rodeo parade where they threw candy and trinkets to us as we visited our Mimi and Pop and the rest of the family. Upon my arrival at Aggieland in 1978, March the first took on another meaninging in my life as I met my dorm roommate and lifelong friend, Louis Hejtmanek, who was born on that date. In fact he is celebrating his 65th birthday today and we have celebrated being friends for over 47 years! Of course March 2nd is Texas Independence Day, which always looms large on the calendar for any native Texan, esepcially one of my vintage who grew up singing "Texas our Texas" every morning at the start of school, and was steeped in Texas history from an early age, even if it was terribly revisionist as I would learn much later in life. Little did I know, that March 2nd many years hence would also hold a darker meaning when I was fired from a job that almost literally and physically killed me and my spirit. I fought to save a hospital that I was leading and was let go for literally trying too hard to keep the enterprise going, and by people whom I trusted but on hindsight really didint deserve the effort. Honestly this turned out to be the best of blessings since I am not sure I would have ever given up on what was in actuality a hopeless situation. So in spite of trying to crush me, they really did me a favor and I have adopted March 2nd as my own personal Independence Day as well. The awful door that closed presented the most wonderful opportunity, and also allowed me to see clearly who my real friends and suporters were and are, and more importantly those who were not. And then there is March 3rd, probably the saddest day of my life, when my beautiful mother, Beverly Moore Robinson, died after a short illness and was buried next to my father a week later. In spite of the overwhelming sense of loss that I felt, and to some extent still feel, I know that I did everything over the years to assure she had a good and full life, especially after losing both her eyesight and Dad over the four years before her death. She was as imperfect as any of us are, but had an amazing will to conquer the loss of vision and live her life fully even with the hand she was dealt. I had said everything I needed to to her over the years, and she unquestionably knew what she meant to me and our family, and how grateful I was and still am her influence in my life and in letting me believe I could do anything and be anything, standing by me through my successes over my life, and equally when I faltered. So this first week of March looms large over my life, with the juxtaposition of most every kind of emotion and memory and influence as a result, but buoyed by the promise of the spring and the wildflowers and the great memories to come.

Another Independence Day

As I have for each of the past eight years, today I celebrate my own Independence Day, along with that of my homeland, Texas. One door slammed shut for me on March 2, 2010, and within months, a whole world of possibilities opened, possibilities I could have not imagined at the time. What a blessing that horrible experience turned out to be, to be given a mulligan such as I have. And for those who tired to stamp out my spirit and my drive, you were not successful. No more successful that the imperious Santa Ana was in trying to defeat, then run away from the Texans in shame. Happy Independence Day to me, and Happy Independence Day to the Republic of Texas!

Sunday afternoons without Mom

Today I did what I have done for years: Pack up and leave the farm the day after an Aggie football game......after my friends leave to return wherever [today Lou and Debra drove back to Tulsa]. but unlike my fall Sunday's for decades, I wasn't leaving to drive to my parents house on Chanitlly Lane to take my Mom to lunch. She is not sitting there on the blue couch, all dressed up with her purse sitting on her lap, waiting for me to take her somewhere different, or to one of our favorites, to give her a little glimpse of the outside world she had missed since being diagnosed with macular degeneration years ago. She so looked forward to these outings, and I so looked forward to catching up with her, and discussing the pros and cons of how the Aggies played, and giving her my undivided attention that she was so in need of. Ironically I did end up going over to her house, now empty of all signs of her occupancy, in order to sign some additional documents to list and sell the house. About halfway back to Houston the memories and sadness overwhelms me....and when driving into the driveway of her house I realize just how final the step I am about to take actually is. What I would give to take Mom out on one more of our Sunday dates. What I would give to turn back the clock a year so I could do some things differently. What I would give to be able to go Christmas tree shopping with her one more time and decorate her little tree and make her house so festive. But it's not to be, as this chapter in my life and in the life of my family, shuts tightly and with finality.

A visit from the Martins and Snow on the Mountain

Just like clockwork, when you think it couldn't get any hotter, or any drier, something amazing happens in this part of Austin County.....the most delicate and beautiful white flowers bloom all over the property.  Flowers the locals call "snow on the mountain".  Often wondered if it was the German settlers to the area that named these wild flowers, since there are no mountains and rarely snow in this part of the world. Perhaps they were a reminder of the world that they left behind?  Who knows but each year when the flowers return,  I start to wonder, and also know that the long, hot summer isn't going to last that much longer, that they herald the coming fall and the best time of the year in my little corner of the world.

Yesterday was a very meaningful day for our family and another....the Martins who were the previous owners of Sycamore Farm.  Mr Glenn Martin, who along with his late wife Libby, sold this place to us over 27 years ago, called last week and asked if he could bring his grandchildren and great grandchildren to visit on Saturday morning.  Coincidentally I was going to be at the farm this weekend to prepare for the coming football season, and check on things, so I welcomed them to come  visit a place which clearly holds as many memories for their family as it does for ours.  So late in the morning, three cars pulled in, and Mr Martin, who is now 97, four of his grandchildren and their spouses, and a whole bunch of kids arrived.

Sadly, I learned that Libby had recently died as had one of the Martin's daughters, but it was clear from the comments, smiles and even some tears that for the "cousins" as they called themselves, there were clearly many happy memories rushing back now that they had arrived. They said they saw their Mamaw with a scarf working in the flower bed, the place where one of the boys killed a coral snake, marveled that the same old Formica counters were still in place is the kitchen, and described the bunk beds that used to occupy the inside, and where they pitched their tents in the yard. Mr Martin relayed a story I didn't know, that two children had drowned in the creek below the property, and he cried upon recalling that memory.   They took tons of pictures of the house and with their Pawpaw, and couldn't have been more gracious, or grateful.  They left some fresh pecans and a book written by Mr Martin recalling his time as Major in the Air Force, a part of the greatest generation, personally inscribed with a message from the author.   Repeatedly before their departure they thanked me for this special visit, with Mr Martin saying he hoped he would be able to visit again. I remember when we bought the place that it was very important to the Martin's that the next owners would love the place as much as they had, and I think they found comfort in knowing that indeed we have done just that.

Post Script:  learned recently that Mr Martin passed away in 2019.  May he rest in heavenly peace and know that he is not forgotten at Sycamore Farm!

Beverly Ann Moore Robinson

My Mom was born to Anna Elizabeth and T. P. Moore on September 2, 1933.  And while she was born in the middle of the Great Depression, since both of her parents worked for the Post Office, they were not as negatively affected as others.  She grew up in Houston's West End on Gibson Street right off of North Shepherd at Feagan.  She was definitely a Daddy's girl, and dearly loved her brothers Robert and Babe.  She attended Jackson Hill Elementary and George Washington Junior High, where she was a cheerleader.  She was baptized at her family's church, West End Baptist, where she was later married.  She attended Reagan High School, where she was an officer in the Red Coats and played the bugle.  Between the street cars that laced the city, and her other school activities, she and her girlfriends Minda and Delores, just to name a few, loved to shop, go to the movies, take the train to the beach, and explore all Houston had to offer.  She absolutely loved her hometown of Houston.

After graduation from Reagan, she attended Sam Houston State Teachers College in Huntsville, where she not only met her future husband Dean who had transferred from A&M, but was also roommates with her lifelong friend and future sister-in-law Elizabeth.  While she wasn't the greatest student, she often talked about how Dad would walk her to the front door of History Class to make sure she went, and how she would leave out the back door once he was gone.  She majored in music and music was always a large part of our family story.  While she had fun in college, she often said her major accomplishment was meeting and marrying my Dad in 1953.

The newlyweds were faced with quite a few challenges between a failed business and the resultant debts and financial responsibilities which they never shirked.  They spent their early-married years in Pasadena, Katy, Spring Branch and Houston, after being stationed in El Paso for Dad's stent in the Army.  I was born in 1956 after they had been married three years, and my brother Steve followed 18 months later.  And times were pretty lean when Dad decided to go back to Sam Houston and study for a Masters degree in Education.  We packed up the 55 Chevy BelAir and headed to the married student housing apartments in Huntsville where Mom worked and supported Dad in his studies.

When Dad got a job in the early 60's teaching Special Education in the Aldine School District, along with driving the bus on the rural and unpaved roads, Mom took a job in the same school district so the four of us could go to work and school together, be together during the day and be home together each night.  It was this selflessness and focus on her family that really was a hallmark of our childhood.  Choosing to work in jobs at the schools for less pay in exchange for her being able to spend each summer with us and be at home during our formative early years.

I want to digress here to discuss my Mom's faith.  I mentioned. That she was raised in the Baptist church, but when she met Dad and was exposed to Methodism and the faith of his family, she enthusiastically embraced it and the positive, uplifting spirit of the Wesleyan tradition.  She became a lifelong Methodist and loved the church.I mention this because it has a lot of bearing on her support of Dad's decision to initially become involved in a lay role at St. Matthew's Methodist Church, and then ultimately going to work at St. Matthew's in a full time capacity that had us moving into the old parsonage on Azalea Street in Garden Oaks.  when Dad decided to attend Perkins at SMU to study Christian Education, she was in full support....I don't think really understanding that by his choice, the whole family was signing on for a very different life from that point forward, and she for the life of a minister's wife.

After three years in Galveston, Where Dad worked at Moody Methodist and Mom worked for Galveston ISD, we moved to Port Arthur in 1970 where Dad joined the staff at The Methodist Temple and mom worked for the Port Arthur Schools.  Here she was reunited with her buddy and partner in crime, Aunt Liz, and between them they planned family meals, trips to New Mexico and Colorado, and Labor Day camping trips as well as a few less than ideal ventures like the time they tried to make relish from the rock hard pears that grew in our front yard.  Some of us still bear those scars!  Sort of like a Texas version of Lucy and Ethel.

It was in 1977, when both Steve and I were away at Aggieland, that Dad had an opportunity to take a new position in Houston and Mom had the chance to move back to her hometown and start a new life.  For once she was more focused on herself thank of making the sacrifices for all of us. She took a position at Rowan Companies, where she worked for 17 years and made many friends and touched many lives that John Collins, her former boss and now Episcopal priest, will speak about later.  Bob the way, she also owned the Galleria for those years since her office was right above the mall.

When talking to Tom [Reverend Tom Pace], he asked me and my brother to recall the things that best describe our Mom.  The first was without question love of family.  She was dedicated to her family, and not just to me, Steve and Dad.  Whether it was her niece Sandra, her namesake niece Beverly, our cousin Rene', her daughter-in-laws Sandi and Jessy, she was there to mentor, advise, and provide the love and support and understanding that they needed.  She was actually the second Mom to many of our family, friends and coworkers.

She was also incredibly close to her Mom, our Mamaw, and they talked every single day.   She was there for her mom when she was widowed in the early sixties, and her mom was there for us, often providing the financial support we needed to enjoy holidays, take trips or buy clothes for school.  She lovingly took care of her mother when she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and later in her life shifted her focus on family to her seven beautiful grandchildren and two great-grandchildren, becoming their Mamaw and creating great memories for them as well.

Another word that came to mind when describing Mom was selflessness.  I am not sure that either Steve or I realized just how much she and Dad sacrificed for us until we were much older.  She really never wanted to work and felt guilty for not being able to be at home like our friends' moms.  She worked because she had to, to give us the things we needed and wanted, often going with little or nothing herself.  She worked to help pay the debts from my Dad's failed business, and she worked to give us the foundation that we have used to build our own lives and careers.  She believed in us regardless of our choices, and how many times we changed our majors in college!

The last word I would choose to describe Mom is perseverance.  I think the two biggest challenges in her life were the loss of our Dad and the loss of her eyesight.  Dean and Bev went together like salt and pepper, like hand in glove.  So it was hard for her to even fathom that end of that 61 plus year partnership, an end that actually began with Dad's decline years before his death.  Nonetheless she was determined to go on, to persevere.  And when she was diagnosed with macular degeneration and could no longer see well enough to drive, she could have given up.......but she did not.   Amazingly she figured out how to use the iPad with magnification, how to order groceries, and use Amazon....and of course she found her beloved Facebook and the connection that ensued being the bridge to her friends, family, politics and the outside world.  Thankfully her universe wasn't so small any more. We once brought in a consultant to help with her loss of vision and to maker recommendations as to how and improve her situation through technology and other visual aids.  The consultant had no recommendations as Mom had already figured it out by herself.  That was Mom.



So before I close, I would like to share some special, if not random, snapshots of my mother's life and our memories with you:

Christmas baking......pecan pies, sugar cookies, sand tarts and letting us have the leftover crust to make our own creations.

Rotating Christmas and Thanksgiving between the Katy and Houston grandparents and taking the show on the road.

Mom playing the piano.....whether it be Fur Elise, That's My Desire, or her piece de resistance Babyface.

The '63 brown Ford Falcon Futura.....unairconditioned and the center of many vacations and escapades that included the thousands of birds pooping on the care and then Mom having to drive it home.

Our Pets, especially Candy the brown Chihuahua, Jolie the Poodle, Lassie the Collie, and Murphy the Scottish Fold.

Mom and Dad and church.  MYF, Sunday School, choir practice, Sunday night services, church camp, bible school, trips on the church bus.....for years that was our life and a good life it was.

Beauty shop Thursday....which meant we could go out to eat at Monterey House or El Charro.  Eating out was an extra special luxury.

Sunday dinner, which was always roast beef very well done [and I mean very well done], rice and gravy, and LeSeur peas.  Never varied.  And in Galveston it was lunch at the New Hills on the sea wall featuring fried shrimp or chicken fried steak.

Mom and Aunt Liz getting carried away in laughter. Again and again and again.

Foley's. The center of the shopping universe for Christmas, back to school, birthdays, and special occasions.  And the epicenter of the universe was downtown Foley's.....the ultimate destination.

My Mom as Big  Bev, paired with my cousin Little Bev, attached at the hip through
 their names and their complex relationship with my Aunt Liz.

Our family vacation, driving to Washington, Atlanta, Glorieta and Estes Park, El Paso, and Laredo in a Ford Falcon!  The and then there were the camping trips in the pop-up trailer that I am sure we're not as much fun for her as they were for us.

Living in Port Arthur...it is really just 90 miles from Houston?  What exactly is in boudin and why do they talk so funny?  And then there was Howard's grocery was a wonderland.

The surprise 25th wedding anniversary party that we gave Mom and Dad, where we reassembled their entire wedding party, including Uncle Webby who married them and was well into his eighties.

The houses on Winsome Lane, Willowby and Chantilly Lane, the last two being the first houses my parents actually owned since they were newlyweds.

Mom reconnecting with her brother Babe.  The family knows what a significant and beautiful thing that was for both of them.

The farm.  What a game changer that was for our family.  The farm was Dad's dream, but ended up being the central hub of our family activity for the past 27 years.  Blood, sweat, tears, and labors of loves for our Sycamore Farm.

Mom's girlfriends from work, Lori and Geema, and their monthly forays to Tony's for gossip and of course  cheese enchiladas and tea.

Tuesdays and Thursday's with Jackie and Mom, aka Momma Rob.  Hitting the beauty shop, Talbots, Krogers, Ross, multiple doctors, and often to my dismay, some IHOP or some other fine dining establishment.

My Sunday lunches with Mom.  Each time taking her to a different restaurant and part of town to broaden her horizons and give her new and varied experiences. She awaited me dress up with purse in hand and ready to go......oh how I will treasure and miss those times most specially.

Our discovery of Alexa.  What a game changer she was for her.  I swear that they actually became friends as they talked to each other so much.

And lastly, the trips to Belgium we took, especially the last two.  The first to be there for Jessy and Steve's wedding in Bruges with Dad presiding, then last year when we went to celebrate Christmas with Steve's and Jessy's family.  She relished every single moment of this experience from the first class air travel to the overnight trips to Bouillon and everything in between.



When I flew back to Houston last Thursday, I wasn't sure that she would still be there when I arrived. But I am pretty sure that she waited for my return, to give me a chance to tell her how much I loved her, to tell her what a wonderful Mom, grandmother and friend she had been.......and to tell her it was okay for her to go and be with Dad.   Then I kissed her forehead and thanked her for the million kisses she had given us all.

Happy Independence Day

I try not and let March 2nd pass without aknowledging its importance both to me as a sixth generation Texan, and based upon what happen on this date seven years ago.  One of my ancestors, Dr George Washington Robinson, fought at the battle of San Jacinto, and helped found our wonderful Republic.  And many years later, I was faced with the biggest challenge of my career when I was asked to leave an organization I had poured my heart and soul into saving.  I let my heart overrule my head, and as a result learned some very hard lessons about trust, loyalty as well as about betrayal and hypocrisy and greed.  Through the lens of these ensuing years I now realize that this may have been the best thing that ever happened to me, as it revealed who I can really trust and rely upon, and forced me to look more broadly at my career, my life and my focus.  I guess it's true that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and I would add wiser to that list as well.  Happy Independence Day to Texas, and Happy Independence Day to me.

Independence Day!

Celebrating the sixth anniversary of my own Independence Day, that I happen to share with the great state of Texas.  Six years ago today seemed like the lowest point of my life at the time....I was wounded, afraid and on hind sight, treated most cruelly by a few persons that I trusted and thought were friends.  But like the old saying goes, when one door closes, another opens, and the door that opened for me that day has led me on another great adventure, to new places and people and wonderful experiences, that have been as good as the last expereince was bad.  Sometimes in the middle of the storm it's difficult to see your way through to the other side, but through persistence, some luck, and the love and support of family and several old friends along the way, things are looking pretty good at this time.  So happy Independence Day to Texas, and a very happy Independence Day to me!

And PS.......The best thing about this kind of event is you really find out who your friends are, and who they are not......and that is priceless!!!!!

Dad

Today marks the one year anniversary of the death of my father, Rev. J Dean Robinson.  I thought I would post the eulogy that I gave during his memorial service on May 2, 2014.  It is hard to believe he has been gone a year, but his memory and presence, and the impact of his life and work are still very much alive.  Miss you, Dad.

Dad

Right after Dad passed away last week I wrote that he "was an idea guy.....a dreamer who thought big and put others before him".  Since that time I have been searching for a better way to describe him and his life and work, but don't think I can.  He WAS a dreamer.  He awakened each morning and wrote out his newest ideas.  He along with me and my brother, dreamed of being able to afford each new car model as they were released each September.  He worked two jobs when we were younger in order to at least one of our dreams come true at Christmas.  He sketched new buildings and drew organizational charts and dreamed of those in greatest need, and he dreamed of bringing those of different faiths and means together in ways that had never been tried.  He dreamed big dreams for his family, and in my case introduced me to Larry Mathis and to my life's work, seeing something in me that I didn't yet see in myself.  And he dreamed of owning some land, owning a farm no matter how modest so he could pursue his lifelong love of agriculture and things that grow, a dream that he and Mom and I were able to realize twenty-four years ago this very week.

Unlike a lot of idea guys, however, my Dad was able to translate many of his dreams into reality.  Of course there were a few dry holes along the way, but whether it be the United Board of missions in Port Arthur, Texas, or the CCSC or Amazing Grace or the Main streamers here in Houston, his big bold ideas bore big bold results.  And if he had to drive the bus, run the organization, fine the donor to fund it all, or get his hands dirty, he was up for the job.

He was selfless, tireless, fearless and determined.

It is so hard to summarize a man's life and work in such a short time, but there are three more things I must mention.  One is Dad's love of music and his beautiful and bold bass voice.  No one could sing the Lord's prayer or "How Great Though Art" like Dad, and music was a part of our lives in every way. Every holiday, Sunday, car trip and MYF function were filled with song, and every family get together ususally ended in song and dominoes [42].

Another I must mention is not only my father's love of family but his absolute dedication to us as well.  He was committed to his parents, sibling, cousins, and especially his wife, sons and grandchildren. When his father died, he lovingly helped his mother as she had helped him when he was gravely ill as a boy. He loved my Mom's brother, who struggled so with addiction, as if he was his own brother and provided support and guidance to many of his nieces, nephews and cousins whenever they needed him.   What he didn't have in material resources he made up through his love, support and belief in us all, and I think each one of our family members here today could give you at least one specific example of where Dad had signifcant impact on our lives.

I mentioned the farm earlier but after family and his service to church and community, it was clearly the thing he loved the most.  There was something deeply rooted in Dad that was tied to the land, of owning something of his own where he could escape, relax and enjoy what we called "porch therapy".  Together we started a modest cattle operation that Dad managed when he retired.  We grew hay and fished for bass and catfish in our pond.  We fixed up the little camp house and hosted Thanksgiving, family gatherings, bluebonnet sightings and created so many memories for so many.  We worked tirelessly to clear the land and built a new workshop, and Dad and Uncle Babe would sneak up on weekdays just to make sure the farm was still there.  It always was of course, but really I think he was just making sure that he had actually realized his dream that had seemed impossible for so long, with the little red house and beautiful oak tree on the hill that was all his.

On Easter Sunday, when it was clear that Dad was in his last days, I said goodbye to him before going back to Philadelphia.  I told him he was a wonderful father and thanked him for all of the things he had done for me throughout his life. I didnt elaborate more as I wept over him as he did not respond.  I kissed him, touched his face and approached the door and he said weakly "I love you".  Und unlike when I was a younger man, I let him have the last word.

From Phil's Perspective: Independence Day for Texas and me

From Phil's Perspective: Independence Day for Texas and me

Independence Day for Texas and me

Once again am celebrating Texas' Independence Day, the Day the Republic was formed, and my own personal independence day when five years I started on a different path and journey, a journey that has taken me in a wonderful direction and to a wonderful place.  My ancestors moved to Texas in the early part of the 19th century, and not only help settle the area around Madisonville, they fought in the war for Texas Independence.  One of my ancestors, Dr George Washington Robinson, was wounded in the battle of San Jacinto and his name is listed on the monument. He was a hero of the Republic and symbolic of the commitment to cause that our family has demonstrated over the generations, whether it be to the state, the nation, Methodism and the church, our family, or cherished schools and organizations.  I have always approached my work with the same level of commitment and focus, and for the most part have been appreciated and rewarded for those efforts.   Five years ago, I realized that there was no way to work harder, smarter or to focus more in a case where there is a dissonance within an organization's leadership, and learned a valuable lesson in the process.  What at the time seemed to be a body blow of sorts, really turned out to be liberating and enriching in so many ways.  With the passage of time I realize that that door slamming shut on me was really a wake up call, a call to refocus and recharge and move in a different direction.  And in moving in that different direction, I was led back to what I really love.....an organzation, people and community who share similar values and goals, and a common interest in helping improve health, wellness and truly serve in every aspect of that word.  So this Independence Day, more than those over the past few years, I feel an overwhelming feeling of gratitude.  Gratitude for the family and true friends that I am blessed to have stand beside me, gratitude for the education and network that I al so fortunate to be a part of, and gratitude for the hospital and health system and our diverse and vibrant community.  God bless Texas on this Independence Day, and thank God for your many blessings on me.

Independence Day

Posted originally on March 2, 2014:

Today I once again celebrate not only Texas Independence Day, but my personal independence from one of the worst experiences in my life.  Its just amazing in four years how I have moved from an unhealthy environment full of hypocrisy and negativity, to one of enthusiasm, professionalism, quality and the pursuit of excellence in doing the right thing every day.   My ancestors fought for the future of Texas and imbued in me a strength I was not sure that I really had.  Grateful to them, grateful for my true friends who still stand by my side, and exceedingly grateful for the opportunities I have been given since that dark period in my life.   So happy Independence Day to Texas and to me!

Independence Day!

Tomorrow is Texas Independence Day....its also my personal independence day...independence from futility, hypocrisy and negativity.  A move with alacrity from mediocrity, duplicity and cruelty.  Freedom!  Freedom for Texas!  Freedom for me!