All across the United States upon Main Streets such as this people are gearing for a celebration. Banners are strung everywhere; red, white, and blue swaying in the breeze. I can already hear the cacophony of Sousa’s creation mixed with the revving of engines, and a waft of bbq and hot dog steam in the air. America is ready to be boisterous once again after a muted year.
Yet beneath all the bravado, I can’t help but feel as if this is the first major gathering following the death of a unifying figure in the family. There is this desire to carry on as it were. We would get together to yammer and bicker around the kitchen table like in the old days. But that’s not true, is it? Someone would slip up, the name of the fallen would come up, and there would be this awkward silence as people shift uncomfortably in their seats. Because, let's be honest, ours has never been quite the culture adapted to grieving. Did we even grief appropriately? Or have we forcibly moved right along?
I don't know. I know for me, as I observe Independence Day, I will be thinking of all the people who would have loved to be here. I would be thinking of those who readily gave their all to fight for a more perfect Union, to establish Justice, to insure domestic Tranquility, to provide for the common defence, to promote the general Welfare, and to secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity for all. I will be thinking of those who believed with all their being that all men are created equal and guaranteed certain unalienable Rights, including Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.
I will be thinking of them, and how best to carry on their legacy. Happy Birthday America, may you always be the land that takes the tired, the poor, the huddled masses yearning to breathe free. May you always be hopeful, idealistic, despite the losses you have suffered along the way.
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