Wednesday, July 4, 2018
My fourteen-year-old said that, apart from the country's birthday, the Fourth of July was the day she must powerfully remembered her grandfather. It would have made her grandfather very happy to know that he was associated with that day. A World War II veteran and life-long democrat, he never lost faith in his country though he lived through some particularly faith-threatening times (Richard Nixon comes most directly to mind). One of the few times I ever saw him shed tears was the day the United States elected its first president of color. He once noted that he was proud of his children (one a social worker, one a teacher and one an art dealer like he was) because they were "good for the country."
Maybe my older daughter's idea was the right one, that we can honor the country by honoring people who helped make the country great. My father's patriotic idealism was quiet but undaunted, and in retrospect that unflagging ability to believe in the best possibilities is perhaps the things I most admire about him. It is without a doubt one of the many things I wish I could ask him for some advice on today.