By the time you read this, the Fourth of July — American Independence Day — will, for all practical purposes, be here.

And while most of us will pause for barbecue, beer and the festive, red white and blue picnic — complete with T-shirts courtesy of Old Navy — there’s a little more to the holiday than just fireworks and the standard political speech.

Don’t believe me?

Ask someone like Dana Blazer.

This Independence Day, like every other one since 2005, Dana will celebrate without her husband, Marine Staff Sgt. Melvin L. Blazer.

Sgt. Blazer died in Iraq in December of 2004 — just months before he was set to return home.

“We were such wonderful friends for many, many years,” she said. “That friendship blossomed into a wonderful love. The stuff fairy tales are made of.”

She, like the more than 4,000 other families, take a deep breath every Independence Day and face, once again, that intense sense of longing and pain.

They are the families who lost loved ones in the Iraq war.

And it’s these Oklahomans — and the men and women they represent — who know just how costly human freedom can be.

When I was a kid, the Fourth was all about fireworks.

In fact, when I was just 14 and a good friend and I operated a fireworks stand — which is every 14-year-old boy’s dream. We were good businessmen, we made money and provided the entire town of Yale, Oklahoma, with enough fireworks for several celebrations.

But we didn’t understand.

It wasn’t until one particularly lonely July 4th that I managed to get my head around the real meaning of Independence Day.

It was years ago, I was in college — summer school — and had to work the holiday.