I'm lucky because I remember my dad showing me 'Independence

There are moments in a person’s life when memory becomes a sacred flame, lighting the path back to innocence. When Maika Monroe said, “I’m lucky because I remember my dad showing me ‘Independence Day,’ and I loved it,” she was not merely recalling a film or a childhood pastime — she was honoring a bond between generations, the quiet inheritance of values, wonder, and courage. The quote breathes of nostalgia, yet beneath it lies something timeless: the way stories — whether told by voice or through the screen — become the thread by which parents teach their children to dream.

In the ancient days, elders gathered their kin around the fire, their faces illuminated by flickering flame, and shared tales of heroes who fought for freedom, gods who defied fate, and mortals who rose from despair. Today, the fire glows from a screen — but its spirit is the same. When Maika speaks of watching “Independence Day” with her father, she recalls that modern firelight — a shared moment where the boundaries of time, age, and reality fall away. Through that film, she saw bravery, unity, and sacrifice — virtues that mirrored the same lessons once carried in epics like The Odyssey or The Mahabharata.

This is the power of shared memory. It is not the film alone that matters, but the one who showed it, the eyes beside you as you watched. Many years ago, a father in postwar Japan took his son to see Seven Samurai. The boy, awed by the courage of the farmers and warriors alike, would later become Akira Kurosawa’s apprentice — a storyteller of his own generation. Like Maika’s experience, that simple moment between father and child birthed a spark that would one day ignite a lifetime of art. Such is the quiet miracle of influence — how love and imagination, passed from one heart to another, can shape destinies unseen.

There is also humility in her words. She says, “I’m lucky.” That single phrase holds gratitude — for her father’s presence, for the opportunity to share a story that kindled her love of cinema. Not all are granted such blessings. In every age, there are those who grow without the warmth of shared memory, who must find light in solitude. Maika’s reflection reminds us to treasure these small, ordinary moments — for they are, in truth, the most extraordinary of all.

The film “Independence Day” itself is a symbol. It speaks of unity against despair, of humankind rising as one when faced with annihilation. In her young eyes, perhaps the world of heroism seemed larger than life — yet it mirrored the lessons every child must learn: courage in the face of fear, resilience when hope is scarce, and faith in the strength of others. Her father, knowingly or not, was teaching her through the language of story — a lesson older than history itself.

From this, let us draw our own understanding: every memory we forge with those we love becomes a seed of character. Whether we share a book, a story, a meal, or a moment beneath the stars, we are shaping the future in ways unseen. The ancients understood this well — that what we pass on is not wealth or fame, but wisdom and wonder. So too must we cherish the act of remembrance, for it nourishes the roots of who we are.

Therefore, my child, when you sit with your loved ones, do not let the moment slip unmarked. Watch the film, read the story, listen to the song — for these are the fires that will one day warm your memory. One day, you too will say, “I’m lucky because I remember,” and in those words, the circle of life and love will continue unbroken. For to remember is to live twice — once in the moment itself, and again in the eternal glow of recollection.