On Holiday weekend my son asked, “Dad, what’s 4th of July?” What does it mean?” My answer, “It’s Independence.”
He asked again, “Dad, what is Independence? What does it mean?”
Summarizing in one word from all the versions I’m told, I replied, “It’s Freedom.”
Persistent, he asked again, this time I caught a mischievous smile on his face, “Dad, what is Freedom. What does it mean?”
Suspicious that his leading me into a trap when likely he already knows the answer, I replied laughing, “You’re the one in school. You should know what it means.”
He laughed back hard. He knew I knew. Busted.
That ended the questioning but his questions made me question what 4th of July means to me.
I can see where he’s coming from and I admire his way of thinking and that of his YouTube generation.
They don’t settle for what peoples tells them but will research and discover for themselves what things mean and how these applies to their reality.
So, what does Freedom Day means to me? Am I part of the millions of brave dreamy stars that lights up our beloved Home to shine its brightest and most beautiful?
When people shout, “Our Freedom, Our Country,” am I part of that cry or am I part of the group of people they hate and despise?
Being a minority of Color in America, what does this National Holiday celebrated with Fireworks, Parades and BBQ parties really means to me?
It’s Hope to belong and be accepted as equal.
It’s Hope to feel that I am part the community I serve and not feel weirdly foreign, an outsider, isolated, detached.
It’s Hope for fair justice, kindness and equal opportunity.
It’s Hope to be free from all that binds me and controls me.
It’s Hope that I can be myself doing what I love and find happiness in them.
It’s Hope that my dreams stand a chance and last longer.
It’s Hope that one day I don’t have to report to a System that has everyone in chains.
Anyone dependent on other people is never free.
We stop working, we starve. We quit our job, we will loose our home, car, anything materially significant.
We will even loose some friends and family. Poof! There’s goes everything.
It’s Hope to stop living in fear. To stop worrying. To stop being affected by the negative toxicity and abusive bull shit.
It’s Hope to see the world and breathe without a mask, even for day.
It’s Hope that the heart stops breaking.
So for one day on July 4th, my Hopes happened. I was free. I was maskless. I get to do what I want and not have to report to anyone. I get to be the boss of my own life and be where my heart is happiest.
My Heart stopped breaking.
Listening to my favorite Love Songs of the 80’s and 90’s, I did my long walk on the street, at the park, smelled the roses, enjoyed the Sun and Wind without a mask, without worries, without care.
Then a spontaneous last minute day trip from Davenport to Coastal Daly City. It was fun. It was liberating. I felt limitless.
Enjoying my last hour of freedom before work began, I hurriedly wrote my thoughts before I forget my true free and happy self again.
So if you ask me if I’m really free, I would say, “Somedays and sometimes.”
No such thing as totally bring free. Freedom has a price and we all are bound to something or to someone.
For now, I’m clocking in so I can earn enough for my next Freedom Day which by the way can be any day of my choosing. It’s what free people are suppose to do.
Freedom is not Man-made. It is a birth right of all. Until it’s everyone, our dream and hope goes on.