WHAT I’M CURRENTLY READING: Head In the Sand by Linda M. Au
WORK IN PROGRESS: 75, 870 words
It’s late in the evening on this July 4th. As I sit in the quiet of the night, I listen to the burst of fireworks that can not be seen. I hear the trickle of a bird bath behind me, and fumes of chlorine drift from the pool that I have settled down beside in which to write my post.
The night air is like a fall afternoon, not too warm and the breeze just right. Perfect after a humid day that registered a mere 102 degrees.
Another well celebrated Independence day.
Yet, as I sit here by the pool, independence has another meaning to me. I know that this is a national holiday, a day we celebrate the day our country won its freedom. A grand thing, indeed.
Today, I was also reminded of a different independence. The kind we all achieve on our own. For you see, the nature of independence is to simply break free of something. Or more precisely, thanks to my “handy-dandy” dictionary (as my son would say from watching too many Handy Manny shows) Independence is defined as the irresponsibility to any one superiority.
Hence my oldest daughter.
As a mother, I can sympathize with every woman out there who complains about children’s behavior. As a mother, I can admire the streak of independence that rears its head in each of my children. Especially in those times when children have no say, like bedtime or going to school.
Somethings, just have to be done. Ask my oldest daughter about doing homework in the second grade.
There is an independent streak in all of us that taught to use properly we can conquer our talents and strive as individuals as much as those that fought wars to allow us to become the nation that we are today. Freedom of speech and all that…
When I see my toddler demonstrating independence by buttoning a shirt or dressing herself in mismatched clothes, I applaud her. Or when my son makes a decision to give up a day of swimming in a relative’s pool rather than to clean up his toys. And then my oldest daughter, who stands and faces the world while putting her worldly armor on so that no one, but a mother, could see she’s cringing inside of the feat yet to come.
I hear the boom of another faceless firework. The trickle of the bird bath continues through the night. There is not a star in the sky, which to wish upon. But on this night of Independence, I salute all those who have stepped out in their faith in Christ, those who have fought wars for our country, and for every mother who has raised or is raising a child through the nature of independence.
