I’ve taken a few days to sit with this.
Those who know me know I have a love/hate relationship with fireworks. I can appreciate their beauty and the chemistry behind them—but I’ve always struggled with the cost, both financial and emotional. We celebrate freedom with loud explosions that often retraumatize those who fought to protect it. I’ve seen veterans quietly leave gatherings, retreating home to escape the noise that stirs up old wounds.
But this year hit differently.
As I watched fireworks with my 5-year-old daughter, she covered her ears, overwhelmed by the noise. I held her close—and was suddenly flooded with grief. I was sitting on a hill, shielding my daughter from loud sounds, while parents across the world are shielding their children from actual bombs. From real destruction. From life-threatening chaos.
What do you do as a parent when you can’t protect your child? What happens to your spirit when all you can do is wait and hope?
Why are we still living in a world where the hunger for power outweighs human life?
We can debate politics all day—but the right to safety, food, shelter, healthcare, and dignity isn’t political. It’s human. It’s moral.
At what point do we say, enough?
Thoughts that have been sitting with me…
#EnoughIsEnough #Peace #ParentPerspective #Empathy #HumanRights