Back in 1976 (I think that was the year) my dad was in Ryan Oklahoma (a tiny little town that doesn't even have a stoplight) at his family's farm. He and my uncle ran into town when they ended up seeing a cousin of theirs, who had my mom with her. So my mom and dad met and the rest is history, and that is where I got my middle name of Ryan. I have fond memories of playing at the farm as a child. I found out that a lot of my family was going to be there and decided to take Kiera and myself on the 3.5 hour trip down to spend the weekend with everyone. Jimmy couldn't get off work early and he ended up working for a bit on Saturday anyway.
Almost every conversation began with "Remember when", there were lots of laughs, deep conversations, old home movies, and we were all in awe at how grown up we are. There were early mornings of drinking coffee on the back porch wrapped in a blanket, swimming in the Red River, riding 4 wheelers, and eating well. I knew I needed to see my family, but I guess I never realized exactly how much. Since they all live near Oklahoma City or in Texas (except for my parents and brother) I don't get to see them nearly often as I like. I will definitely cherish these pictures.