On Saturday, November 1st, I covered my heart during the National Anthem of America for the first time since 2nd grade. It was a really emotionally big moment for me. The vocalist started out the anthem slow in a beautiful baritone voice and as I listened...I knew it was time. So half way through, without really thinking about it, my hand crept up to my heart and a huge lump developed in my throat as I looked at the stiff-at-attention figure of my future husband in front of me. I've never been so proud of someone in my life...yet I am still figuring out what it really means for him to be a Marine and how profound that is. I never thought I'd say the words I am saying...but there they are...typed out neatly for anyone to see...(probably most importantly for myself to see so I can't deny thinking/saying them). I'm learning where I fit in all of this...America, the military, the Marines, patriotism, red, white, and blue. At times it feels like converting religions...whatever that feels like...not entirely sure. But it felt good to stand there and be a part of that. And John makes me feel like I finally can fit in that picture. I didn't feel like I was betraying myself or denying who I was. Through my life, even when I felt like all respect for America was lost because of my frustrations in society, I still respected those that went before us in the past. The Original Americans. The people who fought the big fights and gave up something for the better of their people. Whether it was their life, a part of their body or having to live with the horrible memories war brings...they sacrificed something for me and I have to respect that. On Saturday, I knew it was time to cover my heart again because of the people in the past who made that day possible and also for the people of the future who will make that possible...like you John. If covering my heart shows even a glimpse of how proud I am of you and where you're life is leading, my hand will never leave my chest.
On Saturday, November 1st, I covered my heart during the National Anthem of America for the first time since 2nd grade. It was a really emotionally big moment for me. The vocalist started out the anthem slow in a beautiful baritone voice and as I listened...I knew it was time. So half way through, without really thinking about it, my hand crept up to my heart and a huge lump developed in my throat as I looked at the stiff-at-attention figure of my future husband in front of me. I've never been so proud of someone in my life...yet I am still figuring out what it really means for him to be a Marine and how profound that is. I never thought I'd say the words I am saying...but there they are...typed out neatly for anyone to see...(probably most importantly for myself to see so I can't deny thinking/saying them). I'm learning where I fit in all of this...America, the military, the Marines, patriotism, red, white, and blue. At times it feels like converting religions...whatever that feels like...not entirely sure. But it felt good to stand there and be a part of that. And John makes me feel like I finally can fit in that picture. I didn't feel like I was betraying myself or denying who I was. Through my life, even when I felt like all respect for America was lost because of my frustrations in society, I still respected those that went before us in the past. The Original Americans. The people who fought the big fights and gave up something for the better of their people. Whether it was their life, a part of their body or having to live with the horrible memories war brings...they sacrificed something for me and I have to respect that. On Saturday, I knew it was time to cover my heart again because of the people in the past who made that day possible and also for the people of the future who will make that possible...like you John. If covering my heart shows even a glimpse of how proud I am of you and where you're life is leading, my hand will never leave my chest.
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