Wednesday, July 4, 2012
It's July 4th, Independence Day in America. It's hot. I hear firecrackers in my neighborhood. I'm a little sad because I miss the old days, the days of my childhood. We always had a picnic. My dad always set off firecrackers, and we kids held sparklers after dark.
Now my dad is gone and my mom is an hour away. My husband is playing golf. We have no plans for later in the day. Normally, I would love a quiet day to myself. I have time to read a novel if I want, go shopping if I want, go to the pool when it opens at 11:00 a.m. But today is a holiday and I feel like I should be doing something special. I have no children or grandchildren to entertain; it's just me and my four cats in the nice, cool, air conditioned house. I wish I had a beach to go to, but I am landlocked in the American Midwest. I'm not sure I want to go outside anyway because we are in the middle of a heat wave; it's ten degrees warmer than normal for July. Everything is dry, the grass is crunchy.
I feel lucky that I have my home, because I realize that people in western states have lost their homes to wildfires. I feel lucky because we still have power; people in eastern states have no power so no air conditioning. I shouldn't feel sad. It's just a weird holiday, I guess.