Patriotism...

I sit here this morning and begin to reflect, again, on the history of this country. I love my country. I really don't think a lot of people know how I really feel about it. My compassion and passion did not start when I met John, though some may think it did. I believe it was in high school when I first heard the story about the writing of the Star Spangled Banner and ever since when I hear the words I see the images of that night through his eyes. I cry every time I hear it. I try not to, but I somehow can not stop the tears from welling. I remember all of the men and women who fought, in different ways, to give us the freedoms we have now. The Congressional Congress signing a document they knew would forever change their colonies. General Washington fighting for what he believed was right before the signing of such a document. The men and women who helped found this wonderful country of ours; and the men and women since who have helped preserve it. I love my country and I love this day. Not for fireworks or vacations but what it stands for: freedom and liberty. I shed tears often for those still serving this country who are separated from their loved ones to do what they believe is right. I am proud of those who serve and I am proud to be an American.