Monday, July 2, 2012

A "SMALL TOWN" FOURTH OF JULY

Throughout the years of my daughters' childhoods, the Fourth of July was always celebrated in the small town of Port Sanilac, Michigan. To me, the small town festivities, however humble they might be, somehow managed to capture best the true spirit of the holiday. Family traditions were born from those days spent together, and the memories that were made from them are ones to be cherished.
For many years, the holiday was ushered in with the unveiling of the pine tree that stood in the front of the lot which our RV rested on. With seasonal music playing softly in the background, I would decorate the pine with a different theme for each year. Twinkling lights of red, white and blue, accompanied by ribbons and tiny flags, or gold, sparkling pine cones with matching lights, emblazoned my offering of "Christmas in July." When the summer sky turned dark, I would plug in the lights to herald in the summer holiday for all to enjoy.
The next day we would attend the parade in the town; a parade so small, that the vehicles and floats that participated would, on occasion, pass twice to make the parade seem a little longer. Candy was always tossed out to all the children and sometimes, even to adults, if they could scramble quick enough to grab some. I never failed to shed a tear as I watched the parade pass by me; it always seemed to symbolize how much it meant to be born in this great country, and how appreciative we all were to be blessed to be an American.
As evening fell, we would ready the campfire and load it up with potatoes, wrapped carefully in tinfoil, for a late night snack.  Graham crackers, marshmallows and chocolate bars were placed on the picnic table for later enjoyment, along with a roll of paper towels to clean the sticky fingers that resulted from them.  Finally, we would see our neighbors begin to pass by us, heading down towards the beach to secure the perfect spot from which to watch the fireworks.  We would grab a chair or two, but, more importantly, the blankets that were lovingly made by Grandma Maria, Dave's paternal grandma.  She crocheted them for all of us, and the fireworks were always best viewed when one was wrapped up in the warmth of those blankets.  Together with all our friends from the park, our family would sit beach-side and "ohhh and ahhh" at the magical display illuminating the night's sky.  The waves would gently wash up on the shore and nothing seemed so lovely as watching the fireworks in the harbor together, with each other.
Finally, Dave and I would watch as our girls and their friends would partake of baked potatoes and smores; laughter filling the air, along with the sparks from the campfire.  I remember telling Dave one year, to memorize the moment, for I recognized how special it was and how we would miss it when our girls were older. 
The big city's more extravagant firework displays and the crowds that attend them, mark the holiday for many, but, for me, a small town with its modest offerings, will always be remembered as the finest way to celebrate the holiday. Happy Fourth of July to you all, and, because of the freedom you have been blessed with as an American, may however you choose to celebrate it, be filled with those very special moments that you wish to memorize forever....Blessings to you all, Amycita.

9 comments:

  1. Gene PrzybranowskiJuly 2, 2012 at 1:42 PM

    bless you my child...

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    1. thank you, gene...and much love to you always.

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  2. Replies
    1. and gina...i just bought a 15 pound bag for future use. :D

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    2. that should be enough for you....i will buy three more bags for each of your sisters. ;D

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  3. Amy,
    As always, such a wonderful read. Thank you.

    Happy 4th of July!

    Judy Portesy

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    1. thank you, judy...and the very same to you and yours, as well! <3

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    Replies
    1. i already have! just check out my blog-profile, and, under blogs i follow, you will see your delightful blog listed!

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