If, at the end of my life, someone handed me just the quickest memory of a feeling, and it was the feeling of the fourth Saturday of June during my years in this house, I would know it in an instant.
Even without being reminded of the startling 7:00 a.m. cannon boom; even without seeing myself sunblock up little kids as they wait anxiously on our front lawn, exclaiming over parade entries lined up across the street; even without sending a few of the older kids early to stake out a spot for us; even without experiencing again coming into our cool house with everyone hot and flushed after our walk back from the round-about with camping chairs, a blanket, a baby in a stroller, and bags of parade-thrown salt water taffy in tow; even without the unusual quiet of the house with the youngest one napping and Mike and the older kids off checking out the happenings at the park across the street; and even without the day eventually turning cool as darkness sets in and kids run around outside or watch an outdoor movie on the trampoline while we wait for the fireworks to go off just through our backyard. Even without the exact memory of any of those specific things, the feeling … well, just a second of it opened in my memory and I could exclaim at once, “Oh yes! I know what that is! I know that day! It was our little city’s Founder’s Day!”
Perhaps that’s one of the joys of going through life with such a big family. You get decades of experiencing the same traditions in the same way so that the associated activities and feelings become permanent, recurring stamps of joy in your mortal-experience memory. First it was Abe, Daisy and Goldie eagerly exclaiming about balloons and horses and drums visible from the front lawn. Then they became the ones to carry over chairs and blankets to claim a spot while Penny, Jesse and Anders jumped up and down on the front lawn asking if it was time to go yet. And when they grew into the ones to go set up our spot, there was Summer, Mette and Hans ready to slip into their spot of giddy waiting. And Starling soon behind! Maybe we should have a couple more. :) (Although, at this point, all these traditions can probably slide right into experiencing them with grandkids without any real gap at all. I'll see what Abe, Daisy and Goldie think about that. ...)
2 comments:
Oh! Goodness! You have just described so well an almost-forgotten part of my childhood, it's uncanny! When I was young, the 4th of July in Provo was much smaller. No "Freedom Festival" yet. There was a "band truck" that drove around playing and waking everyone up. Then an outdoor breakfast at the church. And the parade went just down the street from where I lived, and there was a carnival in the park across the street, and the fireworks went off that night from the same park, so we would wait out in the backyard or on our deck while all the rest of the city parked on the streets nearby and we felt so lucky that it was all RIGHT THERE practically in our backyard.
It was THE BEST. I remember truly not being able to decide if I liked the 4th of July or Christmas better, but maybe gave the 4th the edge because there were so many fun things ALL DAY long. And there was all of that. All of those feelings you described...the excitement, the trooping over to the parade, the collapsing in the cool house afterwards, the hot night air and the cool grass waiting for the fireworks...
I think it all changed when I was eight or nine, and now other traditions have written over it in my memory, but nothing as good. It's so great how you described the way the kids move through the traditions as you experience them (through the kids) over and over…that's so true about so many things. It made me nostalgic. And I'm so happy you have had this for your family over the years.
I love small-town parades and celebrations. There's something so special about them. In North Ogden I always loved sitting on Willie's corner and seeing zillions of people I knew come around the corner and walk past to find a spot to sit down. We got to see, and say hello to, so many friends that we seldom saw throughout the year. It was such a warm, happy feeling. And then the parade consisted of many people we knew, and we could wave to them, or cheer for them.
Post a Comment