I used to love the Fourth of July. I'd go around singing: "You're a grand old flag, you're a high-flying flag . . ." I have a cap decorated with the red, white and blue all made of sparkly sequins. It came from Long Beach, CA one July 4 when I was celebrating with Elsa. She was all brand new to the family -- and to America.
One of my favorite July 4's was 1976 -- The Bicentennial Year! My friend Kathy and I hosted a fabulous party. We asked our friends to entertain by "doing something you would only do once every 200 years. (Phyllis: do you still have your kazoo?)
I miss so much the July 4's I spent on the screened-in porch of my friend Lail and her husband Steve. Great group, great company. Then sadly, Steve died and Lail moved. No Steve, no porch, no party.
Pay attention to the good years . . . but then, you already know that.
This July 4 is tough. I don't know if great memories are going to get me through the day and star-spangled night. My mood about the country staggers between contempt and despair.
Tonight, as I watch the sky light up, I'll be searching for my inner-patriot. I suspect the only way I'll find it is through hope.
Thank you for echoing my exact sentiments, Joan. I just feel like crying this July 4th.
ReplyDeleteContempt and despair are apt, Joan. Perhaps add defiance and resistance?
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