as i sit here, on my couch, i am perpending the sensations of wonder that have come during the days that most recently passed (for they have been beautiful days). the sounds of the approaching night are wandering in through the screen door and my mouth tastes of honey-sweet coffee and dark purple muscadines that only arrive at the conclusion of summer.
nothing monumental has been done today, but the momentous nature of the day weighs upon me. i remember feeling an intense fear for the first time this day. i was a small child, still unable to grasp many of the dark emotions that seem to dominate this world. i did not know what hate really was, but i knew, while watching that square television screen, what hate looked like. i didn't know what grief really was, but i knew, while watching my mother cry and hearing my dad's distorted voice on the phone, what grief looked like.
it's crazy to think about the freedom i have on this earth because of the multitude of people that have ended their stories and slept forever for this country.
it's even more bizarre to realize that the physical freedom i have right now, on this couch with my friends so near and the lovely trees outside my window and the satisfaction of a day well-spent, is so pale and small and tenuous compared to how free i really am. one man, who was also God, who was also man, died and felt alone and lived a life despised by many (if not all) people, for this soul of mine. for that soul of yours. and for the two thousand, nine hundred, and ninety-six souls that found themselves without bodies on this day, twelve years ago.
i am free.
you are free.
but we aren't quite yet to the true "sweet land of liberty."
so hold fast.