As I awoke this morning telling myself to not work, as it is the day to remember freedom. Something not everyone thinks about day in and day out. The freedom of love and the safety that is provided by living in the United States.

However, since I was born in the States I don’t really have a right to describe this meaning. I can’t describe what I’ve been entitled to and there’s no one else I could think of that could describe the “meaning” of freedom better than my parents and siblings who immigrated here.

Remember I’m not supposed to work today, but I was itching to put words on paper. I recall my first article published in the Herald Times. I was 6, just a kindergartner writing about holiday gifts when the story was published. I wish I still had the clip, I wish my journals weren’t thrown away. Oh the many writings that I could’ve easily posted. Digging through boxes while cleaning, again trying not to work, I found a poem I wrote when I was 12. So, I thought I would share a little about family…

Ode to my Father
The one true savior
A true man, a real man who cares
Quiet listener, you’re always there
Silent, strong, and affectionate
Holding the family’s spirit

Ode to my Mother
The soul money collector
Strength and courage
My joy, my pain
She lights my dark with her ways
Blinded by time, she recounts her days

Ode to my Sister
The true believer
Pain never cuts her from me
Mistrust has set her free
My preacher of all times
Never, will she admit the loss she holds inside

Ode to my Brothers
The true warriors
Faith keeps their heads high
Forever by my side
Inside fighting like soldiers at war
Always spreading the love so pure

And so, my family, my freedom is owed to you. As I found this and read it, I can’t help but wonder, what happened to this 12-year-old girl? What happened…

May you and your families have a Happy Independence Day!

-Anna MV

In remembrance, July 4, 2018 – RIP Nyab Ka Yee