Investing in me.. ? Not a monetary investment. This is about putting myself in symmetry.

1955. A girl child, third born, second living child to an ambitious handsome father and a extraordinary beautiful Mother, youngest of the famous Byars sisters. Both parents, farm raised in the chocolate red sandy soils of the breaks, rural Texas. Beautiful land of rolling hills and Shinnery Oak patches. Natural springs mingling through sand and rock. Hills that rose to create mystic places to observe. Native Indian lands, Comanche, their spirits haunting the winds.
My parents returned often to teach us of our origins. We swam in cold spring fed pools. Feasting on peanut patties and RC colas. Exploring and climbing as far as we could into that wild place where the springs gurgled and bubbled then gushed and ebbed, winding through the stone and gravel. Creating places for hands to catch crawdads and seek silvery minnows. Water so pure and clean we drank from the edges.
Farm land plowed and rows unending, dizzying to stare at as I rode in the back windshield of the car.. the rows reminded me of windmills. My brothers and I would burst out in songs and chants.. "I see-ee Grandmas House... my Mothers home.  My Grandmother's house, kitchen alive with cooking and laughter. Fresh eggs, pies, gyppy water. Baths outside drawn from hand pump into a oxidized washtub. I remember the breeze cooling the sleeping room. The white sheers, so elegant and feminine. I always felt so cherished in that room sleeping on sun crisp sheets. The bed high and soft.

 Then, to a crumbling rock house, unkept and abandoned, my fathers home. We never went in that house, ghosts of past to be left alone.. the place, alone with the curses. Roots that sing in my soul, drawing me always. Such a majestic land, tainted history seeded with a darkness.
Remembering.. what has shaped me..  when did it all come apart. Was this the the beginning of the curse or had it been there always? A skeletal hand whispering through minds of weak men and sorrowful women.. through out the ages. Maybe.. but in my soul there is a strength that the darkness can not defeat.