Gypzy, Daughter Of Tumbleweed

Introspection.
I look at my Daddy, and I am proud to see that I am a lot like him.
I have always been a Daddy's girl, and that will never change.
I have been running wild for nearly 10 years now.
In July, I will return to the place where I was brought into this world.
I haven't been there for 12 years, and it will be 13 before I see that place again.
My daddy is there, just as he was when I was a child. He works in the hospital, and lives in some tiny little apartment that could desperately use a woman's touch, just as he always did. (Sorry, Daddy, but you're a bachelor, it's just part of the deal.)
I'm looking forward to it, but, at the same time, there is little that scares me more.
Coming full circle is a terrifying experience.
None the less, I have no doubt in my mind it is exactly where I was intended to end up. Ft Hood has become home, and I will do little but miss my folks there. However, there is something necessary in returning to the place I was born. I've lived in 10 states now, and two countries. It's about time I went back, as an adult, and remembered where I came from. I also want to go to my stepfather's grave, as I feel like an entirely different person than I was when he died, as if this person I am never really got to say goodbye to him at all.
I will never be anything but a gypsy, la gitana, but even the more traditional gypsies needed time to remember where the came from and who they were. It's my time.