July 4th, Past and Present
July 4th usually means a barbecue, fireworks, family, a day off. Yes, it was a day off for me today. I did not go to Gridley. I can't make plans at the last minute so yesterday I made my plans and they did not include going to Gridley. I am sad about that, truly.
So let's go into July 4th ramblings of the past.
July 4, 1971 when I was 14, my Grampy Schafer died. We were on the road to pick my brother up at camp and did not hear about it until we got home early that evening. He was the first grandparent to die that I had memories of, that I really knew. My other grandfather died right before my first birthday.
Typically what I have done on July 4th is what everyone else does although the last couple of years it has been in Gridley with Susan and her family. Before that, the first year I started living by myself (2004) I did absolutely nothing. Kind of like what I was doing for all the holidays. Just another day off.
I watch "Yankee Doodle Dandy" every year. I was desperately searching the channels for it starting at 7:30am this morning. I see it is on at 11pm, just a few minutes from now, so I will grab some caffiene and stay up to see it. And no, taping it and watching it later just won't do. I have to watch it live.
I had dinner tonight with David and Dad and we watched "Jaws" which is David's 4th of July tradition. I also bought myself a stand fan for the livingroom since it's supposed to hit triple digits (up to 110 Wednesday) and I need extra air.
I remember what July 4th truly stands for. Having been brought up on the east coast where access to historical places and memories is easier than in California, especially when you're talking about the founding of the nation and our freedom, means I enjoyed many wonderful experiences my children never had. I cried at Valley Forge. And at Gettysburg. I held my breath at Plymouth Rock and stood on the green, green grass of Mount Vernon and stared in awe at the beautiful site. And at Monticello. Never have I not cried at being near Boston. Concord. Old Ironsides. Washington DC had an effect on me but nothing quite like my good old New England.
Never take your freedom for granted. I don't. I vote. My ancestors worked hard to make sure that I could. Men AND women.
Before the day closes I will do what I always do - include the soldiers in my prayers. My dear son-in-law was one of those over there for a while. Just because he's home, safe, doesn't mean I have forgotten the others. I haven't.
Sometimes we need to stop and think about what the holiday really means. Memorial Day. July 4th. Labor Day. Thanksgiving. Christmas. Think. Feel. Remember.
Guess that's why I have those two stones on my desk at work... not just about my work but everything - REMEMBER and COMPASSION. I try to live my life like that each and every day.
What does that song say... "Life is but a dream, sweetheart."
Six words.
So let's go into July 4th ramblings of the past.
July 4, 1971 when I was 14, my Grampy Schafer died. We were on the road to pick my brother up at camp and did not hear about it until we got home early that evening. He was the first grandparent to die that I had memories of, that I really knew. My other grandfather died right before my first birthday.
Typically what I have done on July 4th is what everyone else does although the last couple of years it has been in Gridley with Susan and her family. Before that, the first year I started living by myself (2004) I did absolutely nothing. Kind of like what I was doing for all the holidays. Just another day off.
I watch "Yankee Doodle Dandy" every year. I was desperately searching the channels for it starting at 7:30am this morning. I see it is on at 11pm, just a few minutes from now, so I will grab some caffiene and stay up to see it. And no, taping it and watching it later just won't do. I have to watch it live.
I had dinner tonight with David and Dad and we watched "Jaws" which is David's 4th of July tradition. I also bought myself a stand fan for the livingroom since it's supposed to hit triple digits (up to 110 Wednesday) and I need extra air.
I remember what July 4th truly stands for. Having been brought up on the east coast where access to historical places and memories is easier than in California, especially when you're talking about the founding of the nation and our freedom, means I enjoyed many wonderful experiences my children never had. I cried at Valley Forge. And at Gettysburg. I held my breath at Plymouth Rock and stood on the green, green grass of Mount Vernon and stared in awe at the beautiful site. And at Monticello. Never have I not cried at being near Boston. Concord. Old Ironsides. Washington DC had an effect on me but nothing quite like my good old New England.
Never take your freedom for granted. I don't. I vote. My ancestors worked hard to make sure that I could. Men AND women.
Before the day closes I will do what I always do - include the soldiers in my prayers. My dear son-in-law was one of those over there for a while. Just because he's home, safe, doesn't mean I have forgotten the others. I haven't.
Sometimes we need to stop and think about what the holiday really means. Memorial Day. July 4th. Labor Day. Thanksgiving. Christmas. Think. Feel. Remember.
Guess that's why I have those two stones on my desk at work... not just about my work but everything - REMEMBER and COMPASSION. I try to live my life like that each and every day.
What does that song say... "Life is but a dream, sweetheart."
Six words.
posted by The Mutant Penguin Herself @ 10:44 PM
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