poetry • art • marriage • momhood • faith

Day Late — Still Okay.

So, we were planning on taking the boys (5 & almost 3) to see fireworks in our little downtown.  Like the metro area's big show, it's called "Red, White & Boom", and the plan was, depending on how my nearly 8-month-pregnant self was feeling and how the boys were behaving during the day, we'd go see fireworks that night after my husband got back from work.  Well, the boys were ok, and I felt I could do it, so we packed them up and drove downtown.  But it was eerily quiet and empty.  Finally, after driving around for 15 minutes or so, we stopped at the police station right there and Jonathan asked about the fireworks.

They had been on the 3rd.

I felt awful, especially since the boys were so excited… and I've been an erratic emotional mess.  Thank goodness for the random people shooting fireworks from their back yards and empty parking lots.  We managed to find a great span of sidewalk in an empty parking lot where we sat on the curb to watch our own private show.  The boys were thrilled and didn't know any better.

In the end, I felt like the time we spent in that quiet parking lot was a whole lot closer to what those "Rebels" fought for 233 years ago, a lot closer than the hype and headache, alcohol, and excess that so much of 4th of July celebrations have become.

But that's not quite the end of the story.  This morning, I called in to the local radio station to relay my story for their "4th in 4 words" segment.  My 4 words were: Day late — still okay.  It won me a nice dinner out for 2 and a cd. 🙂  Of course, we still need to cover a sitter…

Hope your Independence Day weekend was a good one.

Peace,
Julie

1 Comment

  1. Jenn Jenn
    July 8, 2009    

    Making the best out of a situation and not only getting to spend a bunch of time with your family but also walking away with some freebies — who could ever ask for more than that? Sounds like you had a great night. Take care of you, its amazing how fast time flies 🙂

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torch bearing quietly

I will not act out, will not
yell or curse or slam doors,
will not make a scene -- you
do not deserve such a chance
to make an example out of me
to be proven right since you
are not. Instead, I'll stand
at this street corner, raise
my hand high and clench that
light which yet remains. It
will burn brightly, quietly,
fiercely before fading as I.

Then I'll be gone but found.

©JAC 2005

Poetry by Julie Ann Cook!

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Love Like Weeds
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