Eek! Surely it was Christmas just a couple of months ago, and now it’s nearly the Fourth of July.
We ‘re surrounded by material things — both natural and manmade — whose height, breadth and depth we can measure. However, we also exist within the framework of time. Oh, we have calendars, clocks and fancy telephones that note time’s passage, but we have no control over time. We cannot save it, preserve it, improve it, move it, change it or apprehend it with our five senses.
If I drew a graph of the ups, downs and flats of my life, certain days would appear as spikes: July 4th, Labor Day, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Valentine’s Day and Easter. Each of those days has a unique reason for being and special customs. Perhaps it’s ho-hum, but the reliability of those days gives me a sense of connection and comfort. Although I consider myself an individualist, I find it rather comforting to realize that I am part of a nation and society of people.
I know what people all over America will be eating and doing on the 4th. They’ll inhale the aroma of charred burgers and hot dogs and gnaw at roasting ears. “Why evah would one want to scorch one’s meat like that?” inquired Bill’s English aunt. They’ll also attend firework displays where the children go, “Ooh! . . . Ah! . . . “
I take Independence Day seriously. There’s a trunk of memories of July 4 stored in the attic of my mind. I try not to go there too often because I end up being sad when I think about all the people whom I loved. Past time cannot be recaptured, and the future is terra incognita — an unknown and unknowable land. As Thoreau advised, I should live in the present.
The Fourth means more to me than hamburgers and fireworks. My generation was brought up to believe that what Washington and his ragtag band of untrained citizens and farmers accomplished with the help of France was a miracle. We were taught that the subsequent establishment of our government was something exceptional.
We believed in America, and I still believe in America even though I’m extremely concerned about the host of serious problems about which we are either gridlocked or upon which we’ve given up. There are some who have nothing good to say about America. Perhaps they should move across the border into the slums of Mexico or Rio or try life in North Korea or Somalia. There are countries where they’d be subjected to “honor” killings for marrying without family approval, sentenced to death for practicing the wrong religion, or be raped as a weapon of war as happens in the Congo. In one country it’s a crime for a woman to look out a window at a man. Seven Egyptian journalists were recently imprisoned.
Our Mauritanian friend says, “I love America’s system of justice!” Emma Lazarus wrote at the end of her idealistic poem that’s on the base of the Statue of Liberty, “I lift my torch above the golden door.” That’s still the case, else why would so many risk their very lives to come here?
I think I know why this country is in such a state of gridlock and failure to cope. It’s because selfish, self-righteous, judgmental people refuse to listen to any voice or accept any ideas other than their own set-in-concrete credos. No one group has a monopoly on intellect.
On July 4, I shall think about John Dickinson, Governor of Pennsylvania. He didn’t agree with the Declaration of Independence, wanting to try to deal with England one more time. However, he deliberately absented himself from the vote at the Continental Congress so that there would be unity and then rode off to war at the head of the militia.
As a free American woman, on July 4, regardless of its flaws, I shall kneel and kiss the soil of this blessed land. wclarke@comcast.net