Precious Flag

It is the Fourth of July weekend, and my heart just isn't into decorating for the festivities.

My mother is now with my dad, who had his last fourth of July in 2002.    My father was very patriotic, and that feeling of pride and allegiance no doubt rubbed off on all of us.   We always made sure there was some kind of commemorative symbol of the day.   When I was a kid, he was not above playing Spike Lee records all day long.

Now probably at the age he was at that time in my youth, I remembered with a smile the stories he would tell about his old army buddy, Jackson.  We met him once, and when he got the cancer and died, my father cried like a baby.  I think it was the only time I ever did see him cry. 

Although I didn't put out the traditional red, white and blue tablecloths, I did want to at least fly the American flag.

The one flown at our house for years had been finally laid to rest, tattered and torn from one too many winters.  I never followed the protocol of lowering it every evening (unless a spotlight is shown on it) - I just left it up all year round.  Time and torrential winds did its job.

Now I was faced with the dilemma of replacing it, and at zero hour to boot. 

When my mother passed recently, I only took one thing from the garage as a memento.  The big "clean out" had not yet begun, and I needed to get back home to New York.  I snatched an old picture of my mother, standing in front of rows and rows of paint and resin, a long shiny counter in front of her.  She is smiling because she was where she was happiest - in her shop.  I know my dad is standing near by, but out of view of the camera lens.

When he passed years earlier, I had again only taken one thing to remember him by, and it has stayed folded neatly in a china cabinet, pressed up against the glass and standing at attention, as if waiting for its next assignment.  

An American flag. 

It flies proudly now this Fourth of July season, to remind me of the sacrifices made by him, and others like him.   I will make sure to take it down after the holiday, and only fly it during this time.   It will become more precious to me as the years go by, I suppose.

I think he would have liked that.