What defines America? Could it be the struggles we have faced, the opportunity at our fingertips, or our freedom? It could. But for me, America is defined by the Fourth of July. It is not just America's birthday, but it is also a birthday celebration for my grandpa. From the swimming with family, to the fireworks at the end of the day, this celebration is the American dream.  

Every year in July, I become excited because I know what lies soon down the road. When the Fourth of July rolls around, I can’t help but grin from ear to ear as I hear my mom making cookies and cakes in the kitchen. I can nearly taste the cinnamon rolls in the oven as the smell trails throughout the house. Like always, the sun beams through my window like a flashlight in a dark room, and the sky without a cloud to be seen. This is most definitely the Fourth Of July.

After I put on my festive outfit, my family and I  make the journey to my grandparents’ house. Upon arrival, we are quickly greeted by the man in the flag hat. Now don’t get the wrong idea, Uncle Sam is not in attendance, this is the most loving and hard working man I know: my grandpa.

Flags hang throughout the house, the pool lights glow red, white, and blue, and classic songs echo. This is America. Cousins, grandparents, friends, and family gather together to celebrate. Laughter and screams rumble from the pool as my uncle does his signature back flip off the diving board. All of the moms smother us in sunscreen and the grill sizzles with hamburgers and brats as my grandpa prepares his favorite meal.

This is tradition for my family, much like Christmas or Thanksgiving. It is a time we can celebrate the love we have for our country and most importantly, each other. The Fourth of July is my America, it is my definition of freedom and love. It is my home.