Fourth of July Memories

(Creative title, I know:)

I have mixed feelings about the fourth of July -- this is one holiday I've had some bad experiences with.  I just woke up from another 2-hour nap after coming back from the plaza to watch my singing group perform without me (wisdom teeth :d), so I'm a little disoriented, but I shall attempt to recall some experiences to... entertain you?  Meh.  Maybe you'll be entertained. Maybe you'll care.  Maybe you won't.  *Shrugs.* It's just something I feel like writing about.

There were several years which I know existed but have absolutely no recollection of how I spent the 4th.  They tend to blend all together....  The generic of the event around my house is street fireworks on the 3rd, which are always fun because I get to see people from all around that I don't see often (and because being so close to the fireworks is just awesome!), occasionally the parade on the plaza in the morning, my next-door neighbors little party, and then firewoks in the evening.  The fireworks are the most important to me.  They're just so... magical.  But that's a story for another day.

The first fourth of July I "remember" (it's one of those early memories that people told me happened, but I only have a vague consciousness of) is when I was about four, and my mom pulled me around the plaza in the parade in a little red wagon.  That was such a big deal *a soft smile of nostalgia lights my face.*  That one was okay.

When I was about eight we were passing through Oregon on the 4th and stopped to visit my mom's friend Katie Bar -- she was a teacher mum had worked with down here, but in a tragic car accident her husband and her 2-year-old daughter were both killed, and she moved after that.  It was nice to see her -- she was always a friendly woman -- but it was also a little, well, strange.  She kept talking about her family as if they were just out at the store and were coming home any moment.  The shock was still in. It'd been about a year since the accident at that point.  We didn't really celebrate that year -- I think we saw fireworks with some of mum's second cousins, but it wasn't particularly exciting.

The best year I've had with the 4th was the summer after sixth grade.  Shakespeare Camp happened to be the week with the 4th in the middle of it, and we kind of unofficially arranged to get in the parade.  Aka we ran into the middle of the street at a place where there was a big gap.  That was my first Shakespeare year, and we were doing Romeo and Juliet -- we sword-fought, ran around spouting Shakespeare lines, just had a blast.  Ahhh... that was the best.

Three years ago I arranged to meet my friend Mecca on the plaza at a random statue.  I hadn't seen her in about a year, so I was really jazzed to see her.  I went there; I think I even got there early, I was so excited.  I waited.  

I waited.

I waited.

I think I waited there for about 45 minutes, perhaps the whole hour.  When it became painfully clear she wasn't coming I wandered off.  That was the first time I'd been stood up.  That was also one of the first times I'd ever arranged to meet someone alone, so I really had no idea how to handle myself.  I was surrounded by happy people, kids and adults laughing and talking, and all I wanted to do was crawl in a corner and cry.  Surrounded by people, I felt completely alone. Mum wasn't supposed to pick me up for hours, (and I hadn't at that time learned the useful skill of being able to approach a stranger) so I was sort of stranded.  Biting back tears, I tried to walk purposefully through the crowd.  I'll take the bike path home.  I can make it home before mum comes to pick me up, and that way I can be alone. 

Fortunately, that's not what happened.  On my march through queues and scattered groups of people milling about, I ran into Linda, my youth group leader.  "Hey Miss Caity," she greeted me brightly.  "How're you?  Who're you with?"

I mumbled that I was alone.

"Oh, well, why don't you stick with us?"  She gestured at a little area on the corner where I noticed her husband Kim, her mother, and nearby Justin and Shane (her sons).  I looked at her. Why shouldn't I?  I thought defiantly.  I came down here to see the parade -- here's the perfect chance! Linda saved me that day, and taught me one of numerous lessons I was busily stumbling into during my Revelation.   Any situation can be made positive with the right attitude, and it's always important to be friendly and inviting, for you never know who could benefit from your own happiness.  Optimism isn't difficult.  And it's contagious :)