The Meaning of the Day

What does today mean to you? 

Well, if you’re American, it probably means hamburgers and hot dogs, picnics with family and friends, fireworks, and flags.  It means celebrating independence.  To quote my brilliant pal Elizabeth Thorpe:

Consider the odds stacked against the colonies,the improbability of such an impressive group of men being centered in three cities that simply did not count on an international scale and that we started as an Enlightenment EXPERIMENT. Consider that this was a war - not a barbecue, and as the rebels we were the traitors.

So if you’re British, today probably doesn’t mean anything pleasant.  That’s OK.  You still have Elizabeth Tudor, William Shakespeare, Isaac Newton, Charles Darwin, Charles Dickens, and the Beatles.

As for me, July 4th means heartache.

My parents married on July 4, 1971.  Out of their union came four children and over thirty years of love.  As a child, I remember spending many July 4ths with them.  They always included us, their kids, in (most) of their anniversary celebrations. 

Those celebrations ended a few years back when my parents got divorced.  

So yes, today marks the anniversary of a wonderful day in their lives, but that love feels so finite now, and, for me at least, many of my thoughts and feelings about today are nostalgic rather than celebratory, wistful rather than proud. 

I know, I know.  I’m looking at the glass half-empty.  And most years, you’d be right.  Most years, I’d be able to shake off the glooms, pluck up, and party. 

But today I was also supposed to be in San Salvador, attending a wedding with Meghan.  I was so looking forward to traveling with her to Central America and sharing the exotic experience by her side.  I remember looking at websites on San Salvador.  I remember joking with her about the activities I would and would not do (would do: stroll the marketplace/wouldn’t do: hike the volcano). 

And it just reminds me how she and I are no longer together.  And it just reminds me how much I miss her, and what we had.  Which brings me back to my parents, and what they had.  Which brings me back to, I suppose, to me, and what I have.  Because independence is a truly wonderful thing – don’t get me wrong – but it’s awfully nice, now and then, to have other people to depend on, you know?  It’s awfully nice to be able to cuddle with someone you love, to know that person loves you, and in each others’ arms just lay back and enjoy the fireworks.

CAIN (68,999-90,000 wds)