Let Freedom Sting
July 01, 2013
The bee was lying low just inside the rim of the glass. Until it
made its move. Being stung on the lip is better than a mid-throat
sting (or so we're told), but it still ain't pretty. This was how a
friend kicked off last year's Fourth of July picnic. Forget what
you've heard from beauty editors, bee-stung lips aren't worth the
The early drama gave way to classic picnic tradition. We ate
like kids. A small group of us took a 3-mile hike around the
lake…so we could eat some more. People worked hard on those
desserts. The fireworks were some of the best we'd seen. We cranked
the synchronized music. Have you done this? We dare you not to get
choked up when Lee Greenwood sings Proud
to Be An American.
And when the fireworks were over, the night wasn't. A stray
mosquito here and there didn't scare us off. We had comfy blankets,
food to spare and a lot of ground to cover. It had been a while
since we sat together to catch up.
It wasn't long before we were one-upping each other with
bee-sting stories. Three at once. A stinger next to someone's eye,
which swelled shut shortly after (EpiPen to the rescue). The
bee-stung lip. Stepping on a hornet's nest, the winner, hands down.
The conversation turned from bee stings to break ups, the apps you
eat and the ones you download. How the older you get sometimes the
less you know for sure. How kids can be the loves of your life.
We talked about the people protecting our freedom, the people
who have died for our freedom, and the awesome debt and gratitude
we feel for something we can never fully repay. It got quiet then
as we realized that freedom is never free or without loss. But
being in each other's company, remembering the people before us and
among us, soothes the sting, even just a little. Gone but never
forgotten. Let freedom ring, friends.
Back to Main Blog Page ►