Hot Dogs, Parades, and Heartfelt Thanks

It's the Fourth of July! This means (1) hot dogs; (2) real Coke (no diet on holidays--it's a rule); (3) a three-day weekend; and (4) a parade.

For me, however, the Fourth has another meaning. Sure, we celebrate freedom. We celebrate a highway system that  lets us travel state to state without proof of identification or other hoops. We celebrate Target and Wal-Mart (even if we hate it, we celebrate the millions of other Sam Waltons hoping to make the American dream come true). We celebrate choice for dinner and for lunch. Having just finished reading Lisa See's Dreams of Joy, I am thankful for choices as simple as what to wear (even with a belly that over-reaches my toes); what to eat (particularly when a Cheetos craving calls at 4 a.m. as it did this morning); and where to shop for diapers.

But, the Fourth has more meaning than that. I, like many others, have celebrated the Fourth while thinking of a soldier far away. I didn't have babies. I wasn't worried about getting dinner on the table or  house payments or mowing the grass. I was young. A student with few outside worries other than whether I would actually get to marry hubbsie.

Hubbsie spent some time in Iraq many moons ago. And, he's home. With no chance of going again (though he would in a heartbeat--I have no doubt about his resolve).  But, even as he's home, and we had this moment,

This Fourth,  I remember the soldiers still waiting for this moment. For the first time, the second time, the third time...

And, on this Fourth of July, I will celebrate with parades and family:

 And I will take time to think about the soldiers who won't have this moment:

And I will remember that there's more than hot dogs, real Coke, and three-day weekend to be celebrated. 

A very happy Independence Day to everyone and a very heartfelt thanks to our military.