In addition to being a national holiday, the Fourth of July is my birthday. For years I thought all the fireworks and picnics and parades were just for me, and, boy, did I feel important. Then I found out that 99.99 percent of the American public was celebrating Independence Day, and just my family cared about my birthday.
When I matured, just last year, I got over the disappointment and was thrilled to share my birthday with America. I get tingly all over when I hear “I’m a Yankee Doodle Dandy.” Sometimes I even sing it at the top of my lungs, which makes my kids want to run and hide.
As with so many other events since September, this is another one without my husband, and it has been hard to think about having fun without him. But life does go on. That is what we try to get our minds and hearts around when we are grieving. So the kids are coming to party with me, and we will do some things differently this year. That way maybe we won’t all miss him so much.