There is a unique phenomenon that occurs whenever I travel the small highways and farm roads that make up a good portion of any road trip between South Texas and the Panhandle.  Two cars will pass each other, often on a two lane road, and one driver will raise his fingers off the steering wheel in a simple gesture as they pass.  This is often reciprocated by the other.  Since the cities of San Antonio and Lubbock have been home for me for the last 15 years (dear Lord has it been that long), I’ve traveled that same stretch of blacktop many times, and fortunately, it’s always the same.

Often, people from other states that journey along Texas highways are surprised at the habit many slower drivers have of pulling to the shoulder and letting faster vehicles pass.  And, it’s true – this is a common occurrence all over the state.  There is a fair amount of courtesy on our rural highways.  This wave, however, seems to be something that I’ve experienced most when I head West.  I’ve long argued that for everything Lubbock lacked in aesthetic appeal and preferable climatic activity, it made up for in genuine friendliness and a much more relaxed way of life.  This seems to be common in the broader Western region of the State.  The steering wheel “howdy” is the best indicator that you’ve arrived there.

Plenty of transplant Texans – especially those from the North – have commented to me about having to get used to so many people smiling and saying “hello” as they walked down the street.  Evidently, this is not as common other places.  While it does point out that underlying welcoming attitude is pervasive across all of the Lone Star State, this road-born variant of the sentiment will always hold a special place in my heart.  The dusty flat lands of Lubbock and the surrounding regions of West Texas are so much of who I am today.  I went there for an education.  I left there with a life.

There are dear dear friends that I met up in the Panhandle, and they are as important to me to this day.  I learned a lot about love, heartbreak, happiness, myself, my faith and so much more during the years I lived in the land of cotton.  The Llano Estacado is also where I met the wonderful woman I married and where the blessed life we’ve built together got started.  All of this, and more, makes me thankful every day for the time I spent in West Texas.  So, to me, that simple wave is a welcome back.  A reminder that I’m close to one of the most important “homes” I’ve had in my life – regardless of how many miles are left in the drive.

This particular weekend, we went to a reunion of sorts at the church we were members of while going to Texas Tech.  I’m glad we went.  Reliving the powerful intersection of faith and friends that St. Elizabeth’s was for me was so precious.  Getting to spend time with some of those close to us was even better.  The coolest, perhaps, was the instant bond my children and those of friends made.  I know I’m sappy, but it made me smile to know that even if my kids never follow my footsteps to my alma mater, they can still have fond memories of a city that will always mean so much to me.

As we drove back to San Antonio, I was acutely aware that frequency of those friendly gestures between lanes were waining as the sun did the same.  Somewhere along a stretch of Texas highway we crossed back over that line.  We’ll be returning in the near future.  We found several reasons to make another trip – this time it won’t be years between them.  Rest assured, when we turn right off of I-10 and start to head more North than West, I’ll be watching for oncomming traffic.  I suspect, as ususal, at the first wave, I’ll know that it’s good to be back.