Childhood Memories

Like most of you, I found myself Friday evening sitting on an uncomfortable piece of ground waiting patiently for the annual Fourth of July fireworks display. Mark, unfortunately, had to work, so Mom drug me around forcibly throughout most of the day despite her insistence that, even though I said it wasn't, that my leg was hurting and I shouldn't be walking. Moms are great like that. So Friday evening we drove downtown and parked, in spite of our suspicions that there would be no parking, behind the bank and walked down to the park on South Fredonia. I knew I was in for an interesting evening when my aunt upon being asked where they were located, not only could not name the street they were on but also specified that both of her grandkids were crawling around in the creek. I suppose it's a natural thing for kids to want to explore, but I found it humorous that these two children, born and raised in the city, felt it so necessary to play in a creek that one of them threw a fit when told to come up and watch the fireworks. I digress. The point of being there was to watch the fireworks, not wrangle children.

As the evening grew darker and the show finally got underway, I found myself in a sort of trance. It later became somewhat humorous to me that a 26-year old sat entranced by the flashing, booming balls of light that exploded into the night, heralding the day we declared ourselves independent. I felt almost like a child, watching wide-eyed and listening amusedly to Caleb's cooing and shrieking as each explosion filled the sky with sound and color. It was a much-needed trip back in time to when the fireworks were quite literally the most important event of the entire week. I remember not so long ago when I became excited knowing that the 4th was around the corner. I remember waiting the long, seemingly endless hours for the day to wind into night so that I could watch the display. Now the fireworks are almost an afterthought, an inconvenient end to a long day spent cooking, eating, cleaning, and worst of all, putting up with relatives. But despite its inconvenience, the fireworks still fascinate the child inside that is hidden by the dutiful adult.