I could post a ton of Fourth of July photos and I bet you would think it was the happiest day of the year for me. That's the deception of the internet. I could tell you whatever I want to go along with the joyous photos and the happy faces.
But my July 4th didn't start off joyous and happy.
Back home, I'm from a town that does up the Fourth of July. In fact, because of my roots, the holiday ranks up there with Christmas for me. It's about being with my family, all of us at my parents' house, the kids in and out of the water, the adults hanging out in the air conditioning until we all head out in the muggy summer heat for the fireworks. There's the parade, the carnival, the art show in the park. The events last all week.
And while I haven't done every one of those things every year, the option was there.
And this year, for the first time...it wasn't.
I didn't take this well. Not at first. When something's bugging me, I get crabby, but after this long together, it didn't take Adam long to figure out what was bothering me, so he did what any loving husband would do and told me to snap out of it.
And then he got us out of the house.
Have I mentioned lately how much I love that guy?
We had no idea what people did for the Fourth in Colorado, but we headed up to Old Town for what the internet described as "good ole fashioned American fun."
I felt better the second we got there.
We walked around, listened to an awesome band play in the Square (there was a fiddle. I love a fiddle.), took in the sights and it struck me that in order to NOT feel homesick on big holidays, it's important to make new traditions.
It doesn't make the old ones any less important, just gives place to something new.
We walked over to one of the ice cream shops in Old Town and I noticed the shop was empty when we got there and right after, it filled to overflowing.
I also noticed the colorful row of Adirondack chairs outside seemed to be waiting for our little family--all five of us--to sit down and enjoy our treats.
All my wallowing back home had been compounded by the fact that I KNEW I wanted my kids to have a great July 4th...but I didn't have the energy (or the knowledge) to bring it to them. And that frustrated me from the start.
It's hard to wrestle that guilt, I think. I'm such a homebody, I'm perfectly content to be in my own house and yard twenty-four hours a day. But that's not the life I want for my kids.
I want them to get out and explore. To play the painted pianos throughout the whole downtown area...
To ask me to take their picture with a flag just because they're SO EXCITED it's July 4th...
To get wet...
I noticed as we walked through this crowded area with the fountains that shoot water from one rock to the next, that just as we got there, a table cleared and we had a shady place to sit and enjoy...
...and it all helped build the excitment of the day.
You remember that don't you? The Fourth of July excitment...?
Knowing you were going to spend the day with people who made you laugh, grilling out and getting more sugar in one afternoon than you usually got in a month...
...anticipating the fireworks you were going to see that night, as the nerves danced in your belly waiting for them to start...
Wondering if all the little flutters going off around you were "the main event."
...Taking stock of the strange things you saw...
...and knowing that you'd get to do it all again next year...
I noticed when we reached the lake for the fireworks a place seemed to call out to us and we had front row seats.
Someone seemed to be watching out for us, all day, giving us the perfect backdrop to start new traditions...one good thing after another...
And left me feeling so grateful for our new life.
Even in the midst of missing things about our old one...
