I’ll be the first to admit I can be affected by stuff.
I like getting mail, even though these days trips to the end of my driveway avail little. The prevalence of catalogs and letters have long past.
Songs on the car radio have the power to lift my spirits but can just as easily bring a tear to my eye.
Any commercial depicting someone with dementia has an immediate effect as those final years with my mom are still quite fresh.
And don’t get me started on social media. It’s a hotbed for comparisons and a constant reminder that everyone’s life is better than ours and just a hairpin turn from being reminded we’re all left out of something.
A friend commented recently that back in the day in order to bully someone, you’d have to go to school or at least get in your car and drive somewhere. Nowadays, just click on your phone, post a few words and bully away.
So here I sit, like a weathervane poised to move in whatever direction the wind blows.
It didn’t used to be that way.
As a child, wherever my parents moved I followed. My dad went off to work and my mom made sure we got off to school. At the end of the day, we all gathered around the table and enjoyed a meal, sharing lively conversation about each other’s day.
Even the overseas assignments were an adventure, because my folks provided opportunities for us to learn about the culture and visit interesting and exciting places.
I realize now just how much of our thoughts, feelings and beliefs were learned. Environmental, DNA, or experiences, however they filtered in, we internalized them and either dismissed the “hard stuff” or clung to it for dear life.
All I know is, folks these days are very, very angry but not as many are very, very happy.
I don’t like it. Anger makes me angry, if I can be facetious.
I’d much rather smile and laugh and break bread with folks who want to do the same.
One of my fondest memories from childhood was during those military assignments overseas, I was exposed to a wealth of patriotic opportunities. Perhaps because we missed being in America, or there were simply more reminders of how much that freedom meant.
My dear parents took us to any and every USO show, brimming with red, white and blue and songs about the USA.
To this day, my heart still swells whenever the Pledge of Allegiance, Star-Spangled Banner or “God Bless America” plays.
So when I recently heard that for the first time since the White House opened in 1800, a sitting president paid out of his own pocket for two 80-foot flagpoles with American flags to be flown on the North and South lawns, I had several thoughts.
What are people gonna be mad about now? American flags on the grounds? The fact it didn’t cost taxpayers anything? Or that this is happening as the 250th anniversary of our nation will be celebrated?
OK, I’ll stay in my own lane. But as July 4th is upon us, I’m choosing to be loyal and proud of our country.
Still one nation, under God.
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