Sparklers, Station Wagons, and the Kind of Freedom That Sticks

In a world that feels pretty divided these days, it’s easy to lose sight of the real freedom behind the 4th of July.

Not just the freedom we celebrate as a country— but the kind that sneaks up in the simple stuff—

Like lake days, sparklers, and belly laughs. When we’re with the people we love, allowing ourselves to slow down, laugh, and just be. 

I found myself thinking back to some of my favorite 4th of July memories. I share a few in my upcoming latest newsletter, but honestly… there’s more where that came from. 

As a kid, the 4th meant heading to my grandparents on Lake Florida or spending the day at Diamond Lake or Green Lake in Spicer, MN.

We’d pack the station wagon AND the day full—parades, boating, fishing, skiing, tubing, cold sandwiches on the water, hot dogs and hamburgers for picnics at the park.

We’d end the night tracing our names in the air with sparklers giggling while we waited for the sky to light up with fireworks.  

There was a sweet kind of innocence back then. No agenda. No phones. Just sunshine, water, and wide-eyed wonder. Community coming together.

Later on, as a mom, the tradition carried on—with a few new twists.

Long weekends often meant heading up to my dad’s on Lake 7, or to Alexandria to my moms, spending the day on the chain of lakes. Or my sister’s lake place. Wherever we were, the 4th always meant lakes, family, and friends.  

The driveways looked like used car lots. The yards? Basically, RV showrooms. Dogs were everywhere—we joked it was a full-blown boarding service, with 7 or 8 four-legged guests at a time.

The younger kids would rack up miles on the golf cart or the ranger (or even the riding lawnmower if they got desperate).

Grandpa and uncles at the wheel were always a bit of a gamble—are we stopping before the lake, or is this how we become a pontoon? 

Mornings meant rushing to decorate the boat for the boat parade —streamers, flags, whatever we could find.

The littles (and a few grown-ups) would gather at the end of the dock —waving, cheering, sometimes getting blasted by water balloons or squirt guns.

Music blasting from boat to boat. All things America.

Evening boat cruises at sunset — with a beverage in hand and tunes playing — topped off the day.

And then nighttime brought the fireworks —either watching from the dock or shooting them off ourselves.

There were plenty of  “ooohs and aaaahs”…. and if I’m being honest, more than a few close calls.

Plenty of ducking and wondering “Did that misfire just come toward me?” And the realization? Yep. It really did! Because nothing says family bonding like dodging rogue fireworks and pretending it’s totally normal.

Whether it was 4 wheels, 4 paws, 2 feet, or a sled… that hill from the house to the water saw a lot of traffic. All seasons long.

It wasn’t fancy. It wasn’t flawless. But it was real. It was family. And it was freedom—in the way that matters most.

And as I think back on those memories, I can’t help but hope we don’t lose sight of what this holiday is really about.
Yes, it’s about independence and country.
But it’s also about kindness.
About showing up for our neighbors.
About doing our part in a world that has more than enough division, uncertainty, and noise.

We can’t always fix what’s broken around us, but we can choose how we show up in it.

So this 4th of July, I’m holding on tight to the kind of freedom that lives in simple moments-togetherness, joy, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, we can still come together.