July 4th: Remembering & Savoring

As I fasten the oversized, star-spangled bows to the fence gates, I recall where we were as a country over the last two Fourth of Julys. In 2020, we had just emerged from a national shutdown and were awaiting vaccine production. Last summer, it was the Covid variants which squeezed July 4th festivities. Already this summer, there’s an uptick in subvariants which are quite contagious but come with lesser symptoms than the original virus.

Will we ever be done with the pandemic and its lingering effects? I wonder.

I plop down on the bluestone steps of the front porch and admire my handiwork. The little flags which I stuck in the potted plants wave in a light summer lake breeze. The red, white, and blue buntings that I retrieve every year from the storage area above the garage cling to the porch railings. Ahead of me, Old Glory hangs proudly from the yard’s flagpole. All this brings a warm smile of nostalgia to my face.

I reach for my water bottle and enjoy the cold drink, the sun’s warmth, and the view of the yard. I laugh to myself. I remember that summer of 2020 and trudging up to the storage area to collect the containers of Fourth of July decorations. As I heaved the first bin of party gear from the dusty shelves, I asked myself, “Why am I bothering to decorate at all?” 

At that time, there were only four of us in the house: my husband, my 24-year-old daughter – she’d been working from our home since the lockdown went into effect – and my 87-year-old mother, who we had sprung from her disease-ridden senior living complex. 

That year, July 4th felt like the four of us were greeting another boring pandemic day instead of gearing up to celebrate our nation’s birthday. Our tight little pod was not in a party mood, much less party mode. There had been no need for socially distancing. We were officially sequestered, shut off from all physical contact with extended family and trusted friends. In 2020, when the Fourth of July arrived, we’d been successful in evading the virus. When I found the party bin containing all the red, white, and blue paper products, it occurred to me that achieving that milestone was enough cause for celebration. 

So, I drug all the holiday paraphernalia down the backstairs and into the kitchen. Much like I did this year, I pulled out plates, trays and napkins adorned with our nation’s colors and set out the festive items around the dining table. Back in 2020, something about that effort had lifted my sagging spirits. Of course, a home-cooked BBQ for our “Fab Four” was the only thing planned for the entire day. 

That year all the local Fourth of July activities had long been canceled. No fireworks. Not even the haphazard homespun displays that usually lit up the lakefront as far as the eye could see. I recall that it was the suspension of our annual community parade that really tugged at my heartstrings. The blocks-long stream of convertibles, mini-floats and neighbors marching with their kids in decorated strollers and wagons is something the entire neighborhood anticipates. My own kids had once ridden bikes and tricycles to which they’d attached patriotic streamers. Nostalgia and pangs of disappointment over all the canceled events that year almost forced me to return the decorations to the storage room. 

Yet, I didn’t. An inner voice had scolded me: July 4th is an important date. Don’t let the pandemic erase celebrating it in some way. 

Just like I had done today, I dragged the bins of decorations outside to the patio. I strung the red-and-white striped buntings with their blue fields of white stars along the porch railings. I snagged the ladder from the garage and draped the last bunting above the front door so our nation’s colors could be seen far and wide. And I stuffed tiny flags in the patio flowerpots, hung the big, patriotic bows on the gate and settled onto the top step of the front porch to sip a cold drink. 

From this same spot, I recalled how my neighbor from across the street had yelled to me, “The place looks festive! Happy Fourth!” I had waved then, grandiosely, and shouted back. “You, too!” 

There have been many changes in my life since Covid struck in 2020. Many challenges, too. But as I sit here taking it all in now and remembering past Fourth of July’s, I’m struck by a thought. There is something grand, reassuring even, to pick up activities and events one has always enjoyed, but perhaps took for granted. Like hanging an overabundance of gaudy patriotic decorations from every corner, railing, and post. Like inviting more guests to the family barbecue than you own chairs to accommodate. Like staying up way past the last snap, crackle, and big boom just to have one more drink with family and friends.

The summer of 2022 is not like the years that have come before. We are less encumbered by the pandemic, yet we are much changed because of it. And because of what we have survived as a nation, as people, as families, we crave celebrations. We need them to heal. Remembering and savoring national holidays is good for our morale and important for maintaining our sense of community. It serves to strengthen the fabric of our patriotism, which seems lately to be threatened each and every day.

News & Upcoming Events

June 27th– Fellow Chicagoan, Lanise Shelley, interviewed me for her podcast, When They Were Young about my adoption search and reunion experience and why I chose to write a memoir about it. You can listen here.

July 19th, I will be speaking to Vicky’s Book Club in Hinsdale about Twice a Daughter: A Search for Identity, Family, and Belonging.

In May, The Women’s Press Club of Indiana recognized my writing in their annual statewide contest: 

• My book, Twice a Daughter, received first place in autobiography/memoir category
• Two of my monthly columns, That Girl This Life, written for The Beacher Newspapers received first place: “The Happiest Moment” & “My Mother’s Words.”
• My piece,  “Why Now, Why Not, and Why Wait,” (published on Adoption.com) received first place for personal essay 
• Another essay, “Closed Adoption: A Legal Magic Eraser” (published on Imprint.com) received first place for opinion/editorial. 

These works went on to compete in the national competition hosted by the NFPW (National Federation of Press Women). On June 25th, I learned that my book, Twice a Daughter, took Third Place for Nonfiction Book for Adult Readers in autobiography/ memoir, and the Columns, Personal Essay, and Editorial/Opinion pieces received Honorable Mention.

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