Independence Peaches

This is a peach tree I found in my father's garden, a small scrubby thing, more a shrub than a tree, with branches bowing under the weight of the peaches. Yet still it thrives.

My father's garden has never ceased to amaze me. Every time I explore it, I find something new. Usually something edible. Quite impressive since, outwardly, it just looks like a small, dry patch of land with a few random patches of green, usually around the fence. My father was good at plants but not so much at landscaping.

Today is Independence Day. I don't feel much like celebrating. But I do know my father loved it in this country. He was pragmatic, so mostly he loved this country for what it could give him. I think that's the same reason that, when I was younger, and I would mention being Asian, my father would always correct me and say "You are American." I think he just wanted to be sure I knew I was entitled to the same things as everyone else.

I have trouble with simple patriotism because I think the things I am often asked to be proud of are more ideals than realities. Yes, my dad had a good life here. But he still faced racism and the standard rudeness of the ignorant. I find myself wishing I'd told more people off when I knew they were being rude to him on purpose and because they thought he wouldn't understand. Of course, if it was any kind of customer service situation, my dad generally got them back one hundred fold in the end. They'd eventually give him anything just to get him out of the store. Funny, yes, but one of the things I always admired about my dad was his persistence.

Still, my dad also thought it was beautiful here. It's been a long time since I've really looked at the world around me, but lately I've been appreciating the mountains in the horizon more, as well as the small and simple things right in front of me, like peaches.