We Are Nashville.

I've lived in Middle Tennessee for the majority of my life, but I've lived elsewhere. Cincinnati, before I can remember. Memphis, which I can barely remember. Then after high school I moved to New York City. That had always been my dream, escaping to the big city. And it was fun, but nothing like I'd hoped. Since I moved back to Tennessee I've been in New York a lot, for months at a time. In the back of my mind I always hold on to that feeling I have when I'm in New York, one I'll surely always cling to. Being there makes me feel alive, exhilarated, inspired.

But it never felt like home.

Middle Tennessee is my home. It's taken nearly a decade for me to feel comfortable saying that I love living here and will be content growing old in Music City. The part of me that wanted to "escape" has died. I don't need an escape anymore.

A few years ago I remember some girl putting her location on Facebook as "Mur-free-me-sboro." And that sentiment is a popular one, especially among young people who grew up here, who want to move on to bigger things. A lot of them do. And a lot of them are better for it.

It's sentiments like that one that make you feel sort of like you're settling if you do settle here.

But this past weekend reminded me of so many things. It reminded me why I am who I am, because I grew up in a town where people ask you how you are at the grocery checkout line and they genuinely want to know. It reminded me why I want Adelyn to grow up in a place surrounded by family and comfort. It reminded me why I love saying I'm from Tennessee when I visit other cities and countries. Tennessee means good-hearted, grounded, and caring.

This flood was a tragedy, one that has been grossly ignored by the national news. Thirty people have lost their lives. More than a billion dollars of damage was left in the flood's path. It could very well end up being one of the most expensive natural disasters in history. And yet it was treated like an afterthought.

It makes sense to me as a journalist. This flood, while tragic, just isn't as sexy as some other stories. Resulting crime has been minimal; the Red Cross has had a huge helping hand from neighbors, strangers, volunteers. Tennessee watched the waters rise and then quickly rose to the occasion, before national media had a chance to sensationalize.

But I have been blown away by local media coverage. I worked at one of those broadcast news stations and I know how it is when tragedy strikes. Everyone works, for hours, days, weeks, non-stop, without a break. And that might be just the way media functions, but I also see it as a testament to this state. When a story needs to be told and people need to be helped breaks are put on the back-burner.

Adelyn won't remember this flood. I walked her to our back porch this past Sunday and let her look at the rushing water approaching our deck, and she stared and smiled. In ten years, if we still live here or not, she'll hear all about the rain that wouldn't stop when she was three months old. She'll hear about the devastation, sure, but more so about the generosity and tenacity of the place she was born.

It's a mantra that's taken over Facebook among my friends, ones who still live in Middle Tennessee and ones who moved on, but it's worth repeating.

We Are Nashville. The country music stars. The politicians who boast "Bible study every week" as a campaign platform. The community of Jews who come together every Passover, Hanukkah, Yom Kippur and Shabbat to keep each other company. The family that created my future husband, a family who's lived here their entires lives and who welcomed me into their homes and hearts without hesitation. The countless people who just lost everything and who are still knee-deep in water helping their neighbors clean up. The conservatives, the liberals, the Bible Belt and those in the minority. The new life sleeping upstairs in her crib. They are all Nashville.

I've never been so proud to call this place home.