I am the flag that, for far too long, has remained in the back of closets and the corners of garages, gathering dust and cobwebs, only sometimes used as a decoration on Independence Day.

I am the flag that has flown as young men have marched off to fight for what I represent. I’ve been there as mothers waved tearfully to their “baby” boys, as fathers choked down raw emotion to proudly shake the hands of their sons, finally breaking down to give a hug goodbye. I’ve seen the new wives, frantically kiss the husbands that were leaving in order that they stay safe.

I am the flag these warriors were defending as they lay bleeding… dying… alone… cold. I stood tall as mothers sobbed, their hearts aching for one more smile. Fathers mourned, crushed but proud of the sacrifice for freedom. I saw the lonely soul of the young wife and the wide-eyed innocents who wondered when Daddy would be home. And I was there when the other defenders of freedom came home, tired but not defeated. They left as boys, came home as men… wiser… stronger.

I am the flag that was put aside as Americans became complacent… comfortable… too self-assured and concerned with trivialities. I was allowed to be desecrated, spat-upon, and scorned by people who would not have that same freedom in any other country.

I am the flag – still here when cowards attack. Families wept under me for their dead and missing. Friends waited. Strangers watched and hoped. I withstood the stunned silence of America. I heard the deafening quiet blanketing our country. I listened. I waited.

And now, as the nation’s pride surges and the resounding call to freedom echoes through the towns and cities, I am the flag who’s dust is being shaken off. I am mounted on homes and offices and vehicles. Americans are once again recognizing what I mean to them… what I have meant to generations before them.

So as you thank God for your freedom and pray for His blessings on this country, I will snap wildly and beautifully in the breeze. Salute me. I am the flag.