The Final Fourth of July

I was ten years old the first time I celebrated the Fourth of July in my California home. With a backyard pool and neighborhood fireworks permitted, our house became the Fourth Party Place for half a century. Once upon a time, I was the kid jumping in the deep end, swimming to grandmothers, aunts, and uncles. Years later, my mother taught my children how to swim in the shallow end. This year, I was the “Nina” catching children and going round in circles (“motor boat, motor boat go so fast.”)

This Fourth was busy, noisy, and merry. But, most days it’s gotten very quiet. Too quiet. The aunts and uncles are gone. Mom, Dad, the grandparents–all swimming in that great pool in the sky. My own grand kids live thousands of miles away. Going to Nina’s house isn’t exactly over the river and through the woods. It requires stop overs and lots of travel money.

Earlier this year I came to the decision it was time to give up the family homestead and move on. It’s one more adjustment to being part of The Widow’s Club. So I’m packing up, selling off, and hoping for great adventures ahead. First stop will be St. Louis and settling into a space at Daughter #1’s house. Come the height of winter, you’ll probably be able to find me in Hawaii with Daughter #2. Sounds pretty sweet, doesn’t it?