Happy 4th!

Everyone has favorite traditions associated with holidays, and the 4^th of July is no exception.  Many of us go to see fireworks.  Some of us go to the beach.  Some of us go to local parades and festivals.  When I was very young, one of my favorite parts of this holiday was our neighborhood 4^th of July picnic. 

I remember one year especially well. I must’ve been eight or nine.  This particular year, there was a holiday gathering at the end of my street, near the “dirt pile,” as we called it, where my brother, my friends and I loved climbing and pretending we were imaginary detectives.

Nothing was out of the ordinary about this particular celebration.  We all enjoyed favorite summer foods like fried chicken, chips and fruit.  I’m sure there was ice cream and iced tea.  Everyone chatted and laughed, and my brother and I hoped a game of wiffle ball would start.  Some of our friends were also there. 

One of my very best friends growing up, Amy, lived two doors down from us.  She and her family were there as well.  She and I loved playing sports, digging in the dirt, and pretending we were having all sorts of grand adventures.

But, like any young friends, we also had our spats.  And they could get pretty bad.  We were the same age and were very competitive. As I sit here writing this, I really can’t remember much about our arguments, but I do remember that we both had some serious little Southern girl tempers.

So, naturally, an occasion like the July 4^th picnic was the perfect time for some drama.

For some reason, we were arguing at the picnic.  It started out mildly enough, but then it got worse.  Amy and I both ended up away from the crowd, in the street, yelling and freaking out over God knows what.

Then, we started furiously kicking each other. 

Our frantic parents all headed over to break it up and to see what was going on.  Obviously, this sort of behavior did NOT impress our parents, especially in such a setting.  Embarrassed doesn’t cover it.  Mortified is more like it.  I was too busy glaring at Amy, but I bet if I had looked around, I would’ve seen horrified expressions on the faces of our neighbors.

How dare we throw decorum out the window and behave like hooligans!  And in front of the whole neighborhood! What must everyone think?!

Our parents ultimately managed to separate us. I don’t remember what the cause of the argument was, or what we told our parents, though I’m sure we blamed each other for starting it.  What I DO remember was that our parents collectively forced Amy and me to hug and make up.

We stood glaring at each other, neither making a move, until the ‘rents started getting impatient.  I wanted to resist but I knew, as did Amy, that if we had any hope of getting back to the food and fun, and staying up for fireworks, we’d better cave.  We reluctantly, stiffly hugged as quickly as possible and pulled apart. 

Years later, as we were preparing to graduate from high school, we could look back on this and laugh.  Amy wrote in my yearbook that she hoped our kids would kick each other in the street someday.  I knew that those experiences had bonded us.

Anna & her friend Izzy B celebrating Easter 2011 - They haven't kicked each other ... yet!

Now we’re both parents.  We each have a beautiful little girl.  And we now see things with the lens our parents did.  All I can say is that I hope our daughters get to have friendships like ours.  It could be volatile, yes, but it was something special. 

This July 4^th, we’ll probably take Anna to the beach, maybe see some fireworks, and maybe meet up with friends.  There’s no concrete plan yet, but I look forward to making holiday memories with her.  I can’t wait to see what her favorite holiday traditions will be as she gets older.

I hope one day she’s fortunate enough to have a friend to celebrate holidays with – maybe even a friend to kick in the street and make up with.  There are always fireworks, but those offbeat, random moments that may not seem so significant at the time are the ones that stick with you and become part of the story of your life.  Our daughters will start writing these stories before we know it.

Captain Anna on her boat, Summer 2010

These aren’t typical 4^th of July memories, but they’re mine and I’m glad.  Feel free to share a funny or special holiday memory here! And have a great 4^th!