Freedom's Child

As a child, the Fourth of a July was an exciting day. I awoke to the smell of chicken frying and Mom scurrying to get everything ready for our picnic. Excitement mounted as we packed the car with lawn chairs, fishing gear, beach toys and food. The ride to Northeast, Maryland seemed so long but quickly forgotten as we swam in the Chesapeake Bay while Dad fished to his hearts content. Friends from Dad’s workplace accompanied us and we stayed from morning to sundown playing in the sand, swimming, gathering shells, boating and, of course, eating Mom’s delicious Southern fried chicken with potatoe salad and baked beans. We always looked forward to the cotton candy, popsicles or ice cream bars at the food stand. The fireworks were the highlight of the day and then we’d fall asleep on the way home. I can’t say that I gave freedom much of a thought during those days. The Fourth of July was an excuse to do something special with family and friends.

As an adult, I now appreciate the freedom I had has a child. Freedom to sleep in while my mother cut and diced potatoes, boiled and sliced eggs, floured and fried chicken, turning it from time to time while gathering all the supplies for the picnic -- towels and toys, Coppertone and sunblock, fly swatter and bug spray, salt and pepper, napkins and paper plates and the list goes on and on. How did she remember it all? I had freedom to go play while my mother cleaned up the paper plates and packed the leftovers on ice again. Freedom from worry and anxiety. Freedom to play and explore while Mom watched to make sure we were all safe and secure. Freedom to fall asleep while Dad drove home. Freedom to just go to bed while Mom put everything away and started a wash of clothes from the day. Yeah, the Fourth of July is a celebration of freedom alright. I’ll always remember those carefree days with great delight. Now I know the cost of my freedom and I’m not about to forget it.