Freedom

I live in the best country in the world.
I don't think others are less. I don't think others are better.
I don't think mine's perfect, and I'm pretty their's isn't, either.

In fact, we've got a lot in common with the countries of the globe, near and far.
We've got weather and currency.
We're burdened with crime and debt and, yes, we try to keep our crazy citizens as much at bay as the Brits or Belgians or Botswanans.
We've fought in wars and shot for the stars.
We even named a dream after ourselves.
Yes, we've tasted success.
And we've also suffered regret.

But America, to me, is the best country in the world because we've got this flag


that warns "Don't tread on me". These stars and stripes woven in the mere threads of a machine but preserved by the beloved blood of our warriors, stand for what sets us apart...the idea that no other country conceives or lives as ours does - freedom.

It is an adage often relegated to the shelf of colloquially cute that informs, "Freedom don't come free." But, as did many of yours, my grandfather, father, father-in-law, and husband fought for that freedom - our freedom...and that cost them greatly. These days, we celebrate the 4th of July as our Independence Day. We mark it with all-American fare like burgers and dogs and a cold one on a deck overlooking the view from the backyard. And we eat and drink and look at whatever we want, saying whatever comes to mind, without license or censure or fear of retaliation.

Now that's freedom.

So we fire off lights in the sky to recall the bombs and the bullets and the boasting of victories that brought our freedom 'round.



We "ooh" and "aah" and cuddle up beneath the starry sky and walk as living proof that, come what may, our flag still stands whether it's a dessert (like the one above) or an homage to the father, husband, brother, wife, mother, or sister fighting far away.

Thank you, God, for our country.

Thank you for our soldiers who defend it.

Thank you for our freedom.

It's a pretty darn good thing.