Sweet Home

If you’ve never been, Alabama is probably much prettier than you would expect. At least, that’s what visitors tell me as they sit in the passenger seat, looking around with a somewhat surprised look on their face.  The main comment people make on their first trip to Alabama is, “It’s so much greener than I thought it would be.”

Especially now, in the beginning of May, it is so very green.  The rain is generous in the spring leaving us with trees upon trees covered in new clothes. And the trees heavy with leaves, pinecones, and blooms, huddle tightly together and burst over the roads.  The roads are constantly curving and often rising, then dipping. It’s not necessarily mountainous around my neighborhood, but when you’re running, you get a feel for just how steep those hills can be.  I love the hills, my heart is in the hills. If you ask me “mountains or the beach?” I’ll say mountains every time, though I don’t know if that makes me more partial to my hometown, or if my hometown makes me more partial to the mountains.  There are creeks that can turn into miniature rapids during a thunderstorm (I say rapids because my cousins have actually attempted to raft one during a storm).  They are full of crawling crawdads, little darting fish, and the occasional snake, but when you’re a little girl in a hot Alabama summer, nothing can keep you from wading through the cool water.

That only describes a small, small section of Alabama, but it’s my section. It’s my first home and believe me, I would not want to say that about anywhere else in the world.  I can understand that other people might feel similar ways about their home states, but if you are also from Alabama you understand the difference. 

Being from Alabama is like being from a history- a history well-marinated in tradition...and butter.  It’s something I’ve only noticed after being around more non-southerners, if you will, but this lifestyle of tradition is one that is unique to the south-east- if not just Alabama (I can’t speak for the other states). 

With this attachment to tradition comes strong feelings of pride. I have a friend, Annie Monson, from the mid-west who now lives in New Jersey and for the life of her, she cannot get her head around the pride we Alabamians feel. For a state that is not always ranked so favorably in demographics, we still think that there’s no better place to live in the country.  Keep your lack of obesity; we’ll keep our delicious barbeque and call it a day. 

I write all this for an important announcement: I’M BACK! After two days of being Bama-bound (only my mom could turn an 8 hour drive to a two day trek), I have arrived to my house in Birmingham.  An unlikely occurrence these days, all six members of the Drew family are present and accounted for.  Alabama never felt so good as a warm summer night surrounded by my parents, brothers, and sister.  These are the people that have dealt with me the longest and loved me the hardest.  It’s a sad fact that I take them for granted- I never realize quite how much I need them until I feel their arms around me. Of course, it doesn’t just stop with my immediate family- my cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents are all such beautiful sights for sore eyes (and I share their gene pool, so lucky me!).

Being away from Wake is tough.  I miss it terribly.  It was an odd moment to wake up this morning in a queen sized bed- let me divulge, I did not enjoy it.  But, I had been away from Alabama long enough.  This time around, it was my mother’s church bus-sized conversion van that carried me home, and I am thankful for it.  I might still shed a few tears when I talk to my far away friends, but I’m also going to appreciate this time in Dixie.

Besides, I leave for California (!!!) on the 19^th… I just can’t stay in one place can I?