In Marion for the Fourth of July. This picture was at sunset yesterday in the harbor. There is no more beautiful scene to me than all of those masts against the fading light.
This morning, the traditional Marion parade. Also traditional: my bursting into tears as the veterans walk by. Particularly the WW2 vets. Maybe it’s because they make me think of my grandfathers, or maybe it’s just the way their waning numbers are yet another marker of time passing … but every year, I cry. On the surface, it’s the same emotion as the old guard making me cry at Princeton reunions. But there’s another level to it, which was made clear to me when “Find the Cost of Freedom” came on the radio driving home. These men are proof positive of the price paid by so many to keep us free. Wow, that’s a cliche. Then I started thinking about all the other ways we pay for freedom … and wondering what the cost is for true personal and emotional and intellectual freedom?
