Born in the USA...

It’s July 3, and not even close to dusk. Fireworks in Spread Eagle, Wisconsin, happen tonight, on the lake at dark. No set time. Just dark.

When you’re a kid, it’s one of those nights you build up in your mind, wait for allllll summer and then lament when it’s over. No one is going to tell you to get ready for bed before the fun really starts, so you know you don’t even have to beg to stay up late. It’s a given.

When you’re a parent, it’s a night you loathe. I wouldn’t say I hope for bad behavior so we can cancel attendance. In fact, my youngest flipped off a FedEx driver this morning – “He was driving too fast!” – and she’s still allowed to go. So whatever bar we’ve set, it’s either on the ground or underneath a pile of beach sand.

There’s a certain nostalgia to the preparations, entertaining yourself until it’s time… these days it looks a lot like doing work or reading a great book – have you read “Nora Goes Off Script”? so freaking good! – or just anything to keep your eyes open until it’s time to load up in the boat, grab an adult beverage of your choice (and probably not your first one), and be awed by the other worldly display of light and explosion that signifies freedom and nothing else.

The Fourth is an event and a milestone, and it also comes with a little bit of sadness. My mom always used to mourn the passing of Independence Day. “Summer just flies after this, it’s practically over!” I remember her saying. My eldest asked if summer was almost over today, and despite my mom’s Debbie Downer outlook, I told her emphatically, “NO! Summer is just getting started!”

I’ve been home for the last four summers including this one with my kids. Like, the entire summer. The pandemic opened a door I thought would always be a pipe dream. I’m sleeping in my childhood bedroom all summer. Thankfully I’ve been upgraded from a twin bed to a queen, and I am blissfully able to have my own bathroom, a luxury at the lake house.

As I watch the fireworks tonight, there’s more to celebrate than America’s freedom, and I’m here for it. Living my childhood summers again through the eyes of my kids (and my sister and her kids) is a luxury I never thought I’d get, and for four years running.

God bless the USA.