I’m so excited to host Valorie today from Simply, Valorie. Her blog is so funny, and she has such a lovely fresh, and honest opinion on everything. I’m a big fan and new subscriber to her blog and so can you! This post is part of the 20 something blogger’s childhood summer vacations blog swap. Feel free to click on the image below and learn more about 20SB!
Hi, I’m Valorie from over at Simply, Valorie.I’m so thrilled Becks has opened up her bloggy home to me – thanks, girl!
When I was growing up my mom worked for an airline, so we flew for pretty cheap, even internationally. Because of that, I have been all over the world, seen places that a lot of people only dream about going to. I’ve been lucky.
And yet, my favorite vacation I’ve ever taken was my trip to Miami with my parents. I was seven years old, I think it was the first real trip we’d taken as a family that wasn’t a visit to other family members. It was also the first time I’d ever been to a beach, or the first time I *remember* going to a beach, and it was the most fun I’d ever had in my young life.
I know, it’s so typical. Like, really, a trip to the beach? HOW ORIGINAL, VALORIE. GOOD JOB.
But, I mean, how can you not love this?
My dad stood with me on that beach and taught me a lot about the world on that trip. He pointed out over the water and said, “You know what’s out there?” And since I was seven and in the second grade and thought I was THE SMARTEST, LIKE YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW I’M SEVEN, C’MON, I said “whales, and seagulls, and fishies and sharks!” My dad nodded and agreed and then said, “But there’s more.”
He started telling me about how there were other lands out there beyond the water and the horizon. There were lands a lot like “ours” and totally different; there were other people who lived totally different lives, in different situations, but somehow exactly the same as ours.
I’d seen globes and maps before – I knew that Europe and South America and islands existed but I’d never really considered their existence as something that affected me. Even then, seven years old and staring up at my dad telling me about the world, it didn’t quite register with me.
That trip was the trip when I realized the world was a whole lot bigger than my neighborhood, than my family and friends. That it was full of other people with lives and dreams and problems and desires. Maybe I did or maybe I didn’t, but the way I remember it, I told my dad that day, “I’m going to go to all those places someday. And I’ll meet all those people.” And, if I remember right then he said, “I’m sure you will.”
15 years later, I’m still going to try.