What does 'America' mean to you?

I spent most of the morning of July 4th preparing for a small cookout just for the four of us. The organization I volunteer for was in the parade today and as President, I am expected to march. Elisabeth and I headed out late morning to help set up the group for the parade, leaving Jacob to nap and Matthew with some much needed alone time.

We got to spend precious moments with Matthew's sister and brother-in-law while waiting for the parade to start. We have missed them very much. We walked in the parade, Elisabeth's little legs carrying her most of the way with only a short stint in the truck. There were hundreds of people adorned in red, white and blue waving their flags. A sea of pride.

They clapped for the bands playing terrific music. They clapped for firefighters and police officers. They clapped for the beer truck.

Matthew had given Elisabeth a Camelback to carry during the parade. She drank so much water that she had to go potty very badly in the midst of our march. She was a trooper and managed to finish without wetting herself before we made a mad dash to the Dunkin Donuts bathroom.

I spoke with and saw very good friends. I saw acquaintances and a co-worker. My hair curled up into unmanageable gobs due to the humidity.

We made it home and cooked out just the four of us. Matthew overcooked the steaks but the corn on the cob was out of this world. We relished eating chocolate cupcakes I stuffed with miniature candy bars.

We prayed for our neighbors as they begin services tonight for their son who passed suddenly.

The kids played and ate popsicles outside, letting more drip to the ground than getting in their mouths. We loved and we laughed and just enjoyed being with each other.

That is what America means to me. Pride. Beauty. Craziness in the midst of wonderful. Sadness and joy. The ability to live and be and love.

It was a perfect day.

America, America, God shed his grace on thee.