A whiff of "Y'all"

Though I'm hit'n it up in California these days, I'm originally a proud Texan. That means the word "y'all" exists in my vocabulary, my wall wears the Texas flag even though it clashes with the colors in my room, and I get a goofy grin on my face when I wear my cowboy boots on the town.

No, I don't have an accent. I've been trying to come up with a clever or sarcastic answer for when people ask me why I don't have one. I usually just tell people I'm from the city. Sometimes I wish I could tell them that I think they are stereotyping Texans by assuming we all have accents. I could even pretend to be offended. Or answering them with an accent would be fun too. But that's just mean isn't it?

I love the moments in life when I, by chance, get a whiff of something that reminds me of home. I've heard we all have those moments. Don't you love them?

Bonfires and grills are my Texas whiffs. It's catching the whiff, closing my eyes, and seeing the fire before me and even feeling it's warmth. It's seeing the look in my dad's eyes when I devour his latest grilled creation. It's the flood of unforgettable conversations held around backyard pits. It's the impatiently burned marshmellows on metal hangers. It's being quiet, listening only to the wood popping, watching the stars, all the while being humbled of my fleeting existence in a deep and beautiful world.

This week I hope you can find your own whiff of "y'all". I hope it causes you to celebrate the deep simplicity of where you come from.