The 4th of July is always a meaningful day for me, aside from the historic importance which as an American citizen I do not take for granted, but also on a more personal level.
I currently live in a town that embraces the age old traditions of the 4th, fireworks are still sold on every street corner by every civic organization in town, and families still get together in their driveways and Cull-De-sacs and shoot them off at dark. I have so many happy memories of teaching my son firework safety through the years along with my ex-husband (only because I have to give him credit, because he deserves credit for that much). My son used to love going to the fireworks stands and picking out his bag of sparklers and black cats and snakes and whatever else we would let him have as he got older. I have a treasured memory of my own dad teaching all his grandsons in the driveway of my house how to build bombs out of black cat firecrackers and blowing up happy meal toys that we had accumulated over the years. After my sisters moved away, often they or their kids were in town over this holiday and I had the pleasure of sharing it with them and my parents. Once Mark and I were married and he moved to my town, he discovered the joy of the old fashioned 4th too, along with his son Ryan. New traditions were born!
My parents have moved away now, we'll be moving soon too. My son spent the 4th with his buddies this year, and Mark and I spent the day working on the house but I had the chance to recall those silly little boys playing with fire and making loud noises and how excited they would be. I love that all my boys are now young men, but would love to relive just one of those old 4th's. Definitely the one with my dad sharing his bomb making knowledge. That would be the one. For sure.
No comments:
Post a Comment