One of the first things my father did when we arrived in this country was a buy an American flag, albeit a small one since he couldn't afford anything else and if he could he had no place to fly it; we lived in a tiny efficiency apartment. When we moved to a larger apartment he framed his little flag and hung it in the dining room. He was fiercely proud of this country and eternally grateful for what it had done for us. He instilled in us how we should be thankful for the freedoms we were now living in. The fact that he had lost everything, and that was quite a lot, and was starting from scratch with absolutely nothing at the ripe young age of 52 in a foreign country didn't phase him one bit. He could say what he wanted, when he wanted and go on his merry way; the possibilities were endless.
I don't fly a flag on the fourth of July as some people do. I have a constant,
which hangs on my porch
all the time
which would probably make my father smile
and reminds me of Jasper Johns...and freedom.