Always.

 The third and last thing we need to talk about from last weekend is Oklahoma City.

On my way back from Dallas, I figured I'd stop at OKC and tell it hello.

Words cannot describe how much I love this city. Growing up, we always went to vacation in OKC and Dallas. I remember going to Bricktown, playing putt putt golf at midnight, and I remember the sweat dripping off of our faces because it was so damn hot AT FREAKING MIDNIGHT there.

Oklahoma City is a part of me just as much as Kansas is a part of me. 

I interned there in college. It holds a special, special place in my heart.

I stopped at the OKC National Memorial, found a parking garage, and walked to the Memorial.

When I lived in OKC that summer in college, I always went to the Memorial at night. One time, during that summer, a security guard stopped me and told me his favorite time to be there was at night, too. 

There was a group of kids listening to a tour guide as I entered, so I stood at the back of the group and listened.

One kid, maybe in second or third grade, asked why there was water at the Memorial.

The guide said that many Memorials have water features because water symbolizes life. You can't have live without water.

Water symbolizes hope.

From there, I made my way around the chairs, walking slowly, stopping to pause every couple minutes.

I remember when those chairs and the Memorial gates were bright gold. They've aged over the years, and now they're a dark bronze color. (There's a chair for every person who lost their life, 168 in total. The smaller chairs represent the kids who died.)

I finally walked my way around to the Survivor Tree, and when I saw the steps in front of. them, it felt like the breath was literally taken away from me.

(As I am now looking back at the photos I took, I did not take a photo of the steps. In the moment, I couldn't. I was too busy crying.)

I've never had this memory at the Memorial before. Maybe it was because it was a very nostalgic trip. Maybe it was because I was just so damn happy that my house in my hometown finally sold (to really good people, too). 

Maybe it was just the moment, but when I saw those steps leading up to the Survivor Tree, I immediately started crying. I cried like a baby. 

I remember my Dad teaching me photography there, at that specific spot. I remember the moment I was looking through my camera when I was little, with my Dad's guidance, with my brother and Mom looking on. I remember my Dad encouraging me to frame the shot correctly, and explaining the rule of thirds to me. 

If I looked hard enough, I probably could find that picture somewhere. 

Oklahoma City was where I learned the basics of what would eventually become my profession.

I started bawling at that memory. Those emotions hit me hard. 

I cried like a baby.

I couldn't cry at the concert, but the tears started flowing in Oklahoma City.

I let the tears come as I turned around the looked at the water, and then I looked up at the skyscrapers around me. 

This place always makes me feel so damn small in the grand scheme of life. 

I remember going to the site before the Memorial was even built. Back then, there was just a chain link fence around the site.

I remember going there when it opened, and I remember all of the media that was there, covering the event. I remember looking at all the members of the media, and I remember thinking, man, that's what I want to do with my life. 

I will always love this city. 

Always.