prayerful of dreams - 2008-06-28
preschool princess - 2008-06-16
life with my sweetheart - 2008-04-29
the fast approach of four - 2008-04-12
lighting up my own life - 2008-03-08
2002-07-04 - 12:36 p.m.
It has been a long time since the 4th of July days, of Rhode Island Summers Gone By. but I remember them well.
I remember being almost ten, I remember being lower to the ground. I remember the pride of wearing my blue Osh kosh Short overalls, with the red white and blue star patches, so painstakingly ironed on, in all their crooked glory. I remember the salty sea scent of the evening air drifting through the warm night and of the lingering smell of neighbors barbeques, back in the day, when everyone used to much charcoal and way to much lighter fluid. Flames bursting higher than the fireworks, and the sizzle of thin burgers on a hot grill. The overcooking of chicken, searing the outside, and somehow never really cooking it all the way through to the pink inside. Thick steaks, with skirts of white, sizzling and jumping against the grill, and of corn dripping with butter, and salt potatoes piled high on paper plates to weak to hold them. and noise, always the noise of people yelling polite neighborly exchanges to one another, through the slats in fences or from fresh built wood decks. " hot enough for ya? " you heading out to the fireworks tonight? Sure smells good, what are you cookin' over there?" and of friendly faces, everyone smiling and waving at one another.
and of packing up station wagons, full of kids and dogs, and old grandma's and plastic folding chairs and coolers leaking water, and can's of orange soda's and kids , lots and lots of kids. and never finding a parking space, and everyone parking everywhere, anywhere, and the endless shuffle down to the park square, the view of the harbor, the tethered boats bumping into one another, tangled up in the waves of the bay. I remember holding hands with smaller siblings, trying not to lose them in the crowd, whilst trying not to become lost myself. I remember the endless search for just the right spot, even though every square inch of grass was already claimed by chairs and blankets and masses of bodies all folded in indian style.
and then somehow finding a spot, and shaking out an old sheet, and trying to make the corners stay square, even though the minute you sit on it, your perfect corners disappear. And oh I remember, the unpacking of the coolers, and the mad fight for your share of sodas and chips and shiny faces all surveying the sky searching for lights in the distance and the orchestral music playing in the background to remind the crowd that this is a festive holiday indeed. And little hands waving tiny flags and crying babies up way past their bedtime, and of ice cream trucks, ringing away, selling their delicious melting wares and of wanting an italian icee and of pleading and begging and of finally getting a handful of change and dollar bills and running off with glee to purchase 7 icees for my family. trying to remember the order, wanting desperately to get it right, 4 lemon ices, 2 cherry and 1 orange . 4 lemon ices, 2 orange, and 1 cherry .. no wait... 4 cherry ices. 2 lemon... no ... and then coming back with 4 coconut icees 2 coke flavoured and 1 grape. because the good flavours always go first!
and skipping and singing under my breath, my poor little ironed on star patches, curling up at the edges in defiance , starting to come undone. but of being almost 10, and not having a single worry. and of never waking up in the middle of the night with a choking anxiety about my future, because when I was young, I had dreams and the confidence to think they would easily come true.
and flopping back onto the sheets, and kicking off my sandals. and the low hum of the crowd rumbling with excitement and impatience, and then.....
of MAGIC
10,000 faces silhouetted against a skyline bursting with colours , tiny flames of red and white and green and blue and yellow and pink flickering in the sky, to music.
and the ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo's and ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh's
all falling in synchronicty with the fireworks.
and the shiver that makes you nestle closer to the body next to you
and the awe of the majesty and not quite understanding what it means to be an American, but feeling a sense of pride anyway.
proud to be almost ten
proud of my family
proud of the ironed on stars on my blue overalls
proud that I am a good girl who helps her mommy
proud that my daddy loves me and calls me punkin
proud that I am going to be an Obstetrician/Veterinarian and save the world when I grow up
proud that I am going to make a difference in this world
proud that I am an American
proud to be almost ten
and I have seen many, many fireworks since then.
but none were ever as special to me, as the ones from that july 4th, by the small rocky bay in the perfect little Rhode Island town where we lived,
that summer, when I was almost ten.
old starlight - new starbright
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