I grew up in the South – the beautiful state of Virginia to be exact.
We drank sweet tea with almost every meal.
Our summers were hot and muggy.
We spent most nights playing barefoot catching lightnin’ bugs.
Our winters were frigid and snowy.
We became pros at building snowmen.
My favorite place to sit was by the Potomac River.
Even when it was gloomy and overcast, the beauty was still undeniable.
When I lived in the South, Civil War battlegrounds were like my backyard.
In fact, I have two bullets from the civil war.
It’s humbling to stand on a battlefield where so many men lost their lives – fighting for what they believed was right.
My dad taught me to appreciate history, and I didn’t understand that for a long time.
I took my surroundings for granted.
I assumed everyone was exposed to our beginnings as a nation.
When I took my then boyfriend (now hubs) to Virginia, I could see the wonder in his face as he explored different places that I grew up seeing.
Where I grew up was and is special.
If living in the South taught me anything, it was to have pride.
I’m not talking about “Southern Pride” necessarily, and I’m not talking about waving around the Confederate flag.
I’m talking about pride in my heritage – this country’s heritage.
As Americans, this is our history – all of it.
Good. Bad. Ugly.
If not for then we wouldn’t have now.
I’m proud to be an American.