Happy 232nd Birthday!

God Bless America.

Even if you don’t believe in God, on today, our nation’s birthday, you have to stand up a little straighter, sing a little louder and smile a little broader when you sing our national anthem or watch a fireworks celebration.

I’m a zealot patriot, even if I’m not the most informed when it comes to current events. Oh, I’m more informed than most, but most of what I see or read makes me cry. Barry has had to put me into news blackouts because of how upset I’ve gotten. The world breaks my heart, but also makes me proud. We do indeed live in the land of the free and the home of the brave. It’s easy to get jaded about the world outside our windows, but our founding fathers got it pretty darn close to perfect.

The national anthem makes me cry, too.

So many people see it as entertainment at sporting events, but I think it an HONOR to be able to sing the praises of our country. I hate the applause that follows the singing of The Star Spangled Banner, as the song itself is not meant to be entertainment. Just what is it that people are applauding? The singing? The flag? The song? A moment of solemn silence following the song, with hand still over heart, would seem more respectful.

I went to Fort McHenry in 8th grade, too young to appreciate the gravity and enormity of what I was being subjected to, but I wanted so badly to be a sponge and ‘get it.’ Sometimes mind over matter can be the most powerful decision one can make, but it wasn’t until I saw the flag that flew over the fort at the Smithsonian did it hit me.

The national anthem – in all it’s difficulty to sing – finally clicked. It wasn’t just a song, it was indeed an anthem for my – OUR – independence.

It was Tom who told me that applause for The Star Spangled Banner was considered offensive and I breathed a sigh of relief. For years now, he and I stand stoically after the anthem ends. And it feels good, knowing that my silence speaks greater volumes than all the hooting and hollering around me.

And when I hear it on the 4th of July, my chest tightens and I mourn for all those who made it possible for me to have the freedoms that I do.

But isn’t that what the Fabulous Fourth is all about? It’s a day reflect. To remember. To remember the heroes of the American Revolution. To remember the birth of a new nation.

When in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bonds which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

I mean really, how much more perfect does it get? Oh wait, it’s followed by:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

It’s easy to forget. And so hard to remember. But remember we must, for we are standing on the shoulders of men and women who clawed and climbed their way into a new way of life. Yes, some of our past is ugly and downright despicable. But while there is no going back, we can make sure the mistakes of the past are never repeated.

But for everything wrong about this country, I am grateful to be an American.

God Bless America, land that I love.