The 4th of July

My dad loved the 4th of July. He had boy-like excitement when he would buy fireworks and bring them home. Mom would usually be pretty concerned when dad brought home a few illegal fireworks, but my brother, sister, and I were always entertained. Bottle rockets, firecrackers, roman candles used as hand-held sparklers - sharing the show with us brought my dad endless joy. Dad's enthusiasm was contagious and we couldn't help but fall in love with the magic of the holiday.

His love for Independence Day wasn't just for the fireworks, though. As a Pakistani immigrant, my dad's dream came true in moving to the US. My dad loved America. He participated in our democracy and followed elections with fervor, decorated our house (and his body) with more American flags than I can count, and embraced American culture (he even went to a Prince concert, guys).

With all the divisive rhetoric around immigration, I'm reminded how immigrants like my father often cherish their freedoms and life here even more than those of us born here. My father never took for granted the privilege of being an American citizen, he's one of the most devoted patriots I've ever known.