I just drugged my dog and cat per the Vet’s advice. The sounds of celebration on the Fourth of July always scares them. Riley the Pug tends to try to guard the entire househould against the sounds while Milo the cat cowers in fear- both fear from the sounds outside and also the crazy pug barking coming from the inside. Hopefully this year they will sleep through the celebrations. 

I appreciate all that was fought for independence and Liberty. I annually honor the 1776 reason for the season celebrations.

Group meals, colors and loud noises, and time together is usually a recipe for a successful tradition. But I am content with watching some fireworks on television and avoiding the crowds all together.

 Independence Day’s of the past were rarely this lowkey. When we visited my Mom in Pennsylvania and New York, she would make an effort to have us experience more elaborate and traditional Americana celebrations.

For several years we went to the top of the John Hancock building in Boston, Massachusetts. We would watch the fireworks display while the building staff aired the Boston Philharmonic playing live – synchronized to the fireworks display. I wasn’t as adverse to the big crowds as I am now. I remember the first year we went- it was still an “almost secret” with a smaller group gathered. We sat on the floor and peered through the floor to ceiling windows at the city below. In subsequent years, the secret was out and the crowd gathered got bigger and bigger.

Other years, my Mom took us outside of Clarks Summit, Pennslyvania. We ate our picnic dinner in a large park and watched the fireworks. Something about the smells of barbeque, picnic blankets, and children running around will always seem like the Fourth of July to me. Likewise, something about lines of cars a mile long trying to leave the park after the display says Fourth of July too. 

One year, my sister and I were in a plane on the Fourth of July. I don’t remember if we were flying East or West at the time, but we watched the fireworks display when the clouds parted and we had a clear view. Funny, now I think I would be terrified at the prospect of fireworks going off while I sat on a plane. But then I was able to enjoy the simple beauty of the displays of color and flashes.

Yet another year, we were somewhere on a road trip. My Mom pulled over to a spot where we could see across a river-somewhere in eastern Pennslyvania- and we watched the fireworks display. I remember not knowing where we were, but grateful for the beautiful colors in the sky.

When I was older and in high school- we watched the fireworks from the car in the new town in Oregon where we had just moved. We were in a strange place, a small town and I did not know a lot of people yet. We watched from the car and I remember feeling unsettled but hopeful. A lot of changes were about to happen.

And of course every year I am reminded of the family lore that the little boy that beat me at Connect Four blew off his hand playing with fireworks one July 4th. That usually kills the part of me who wants to light fireworks herself. 

 Now, I’m content with the quiet and the selective viewing of the colorful lights- some I can see from our front yard. I’m content with honoring why we celebrate Independence Day in my own quiet way. But I’m also grateful I’ve had experiences that showed me different ways to celebrate. 

Meanwhile – outside my front door there are illegal fireworks sounding off, approximately 6 neighbors lighting street fireworks, Mr. Funk flies his drone, and the city vibrates with energy.  But inside our home is content. The cat snores while Tim watches sports on television. 

And I…I’m going to rest with the drugged pug on my lap. Grateful for this new family tradition.