You Capture: Independence Day

I wasn’t quite sure I would have anything Independence Day “esque” to capture for this week’s You Capture challenge of Independence Day or Food. I was pretty sure I was going to have to either skip it entirely or go with the other option of food. I did catch an awfully sweet photo of LittleBrother feeding his Yia Yia (Greek for grandmother) a strawberry. Or, you know a “taw-bee” as they are fondly referred to as of late. (Also, we’re not Greek. Don’t ask me.) Our 4th of July was spent at a family wedding on my parents’ Farm. I was less than pleased, knowing that BigBrother not only remembered fireworks but wanted to see them again.

And then, someone in the bride’s family broke out the big guns. While that goes against my 4th of July safety tips, I will let you know that they were far, far away from the people, fire extinguishers were present and, well, selfishly, we had a lovely fireworks display which pleased BigBrother to no end. Plus, no crowds or traffic to deal with!

See his excitement in his moves?

I think, perhaps, that was my favorite part of the display. Not that the fireworks weren’t lovely; they were. And I love fireworks. I do. But watching my oldest son dance around, laugh and play was a beautiful reminder of how I do love this country. Sure, some of his excitement was based on the fact that we let him stay up past bedtime. (“Mommy! The sun went down!” The awe in his voice was beautiful.) Sure, some of it was based on the fact that he had not one but two cupcakes at the reception. (Not really my choice here but he had the second one before I took notice.) And, no, he doesn’t really understand how lucky he is to live in this country just yet. All he knows is that he got cupcakes, got to stay up until after the sun went down and then there were fireworks! Glorious! Fireworks!

And that, of course, is enough when you’re three and a half. He’s dancing in my parents’ backyard, unaware and unafraid of anything else. He’s getting to live a happy life, live a childhood as childhood was meant to be lived. He doesn’t quite understand what the Army is or why his Daddy served in it for eight years. He doesn’t quite understand the concept of independence other than that his Mommy says, “You sure are a stubborn, independent little dude at times.” He doesn’t yet know that there are children in other countries who aren’t allowed to attend a church or place of worship on Sunday mornings. In fact, knowing the latter would make him sad. Right now, he has all the glory of independence without any of the worry.

I wish we all had that…

…but we don’t. We know the good and the bad that accompany living in our country. We worry. We fret. We argue amongst ourselves. We point fingers. And really, that’s part of the glory. We’re free to do so. And while I don’t have the same peaceful view as a three and a half year old, I’m thrilled to live in this country.

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(A note: LittleBrother had already given up and was deeply asleep by this point. Someday he’ll see fireworks!)