Proud to be an American

Traveling abroad has sealed within me a deep appreciation for my country. With every bite of imitation American cuisine and every un-air conditioned store I walk into, I yearn for the good ol' U-S-of-A. Don't get me wrong, Europe is beautiful {stunning, really!}, and I have uttered on more than one occasion, "Wow, I could live here!" The quaint architecture, the beautiful town squares and the epic vineyard-views are enough to make any girl squeal with delight. Plus, for a runner like me, I am overcome with joy to find miles upon miles of bike paths at every city we visit. Yes, in fact, I could live here.

A couple days ago, however, I felt such an allegiance to my country, I could not imagine living anywhere else. On our bus trip from Germany to Paris, we stopped in Luxembourg to visit the Luxembourg American Cemetery and Memorial. It started as a plot of land rented by US General Patton before "The Battle of the Bulge" during WWII. It became home to thirteen-thousand soldiers who lost their lives in the war. Many of those bodies were shipped back to the United States, but the space still houses 5,000 heroes in a sea of white marble crosses. The names of the soldiers are engraved on the backs of the crosses, facing their home country, and General Patton's grave sits at the front of the memorial, facing his troops. I found myself crying for a throng of people whom I had never known, and yet it was like we were all related. We shared the same blood: American. This doesn't seem to hold the same value as it did for those who lived through such a tragedy, and I don't know if it ever will, but I do know that I was sobered by the experience. I wished I could bottle the emotion and share it with my national comrades who {naturally} want to ascribe to Republican or Democrat, pro-life or pro-choice, black or white. These men died for one label, and we are remiss to ignore such a powerful common denominator. Unfortunately, life happens and we are forced {too often} to make a choice that divides our oneness.

When we arrived in Paris, I was reminded of a powerful tool that serves to unite all of us by our common denominator: sports. Through the work of {what could only be} Divine intervention, we were privy to the finish of the 100th riding of the Tour de France. Flags littered the air and chants resonated on every street corner. My husband quickly found a group of Americans, and for a small moment in time, we were home. U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!

Entering the Luxembourg American Cemetery and Memorial

White Marble Crosses

Group of Americans camped out at the Tour de France

100th riding of the Tour de France {entering the Arc de Triomphe}

Some old red, white & blue // Citizens of Humanity Avedon velvet pants, Gap striped tee, Vans satin boat shoes, Inga Creations leather wrap bracelet & Michael Kors Hamilton Bag + Jet Set Watch