Fourth of July – My Corner

V is for Victory #TuesdayTidbit #Life’sAlphabet #Inspiration

Today, in the United States, we’re celebrating our nation’s independence as a result of our Revolutionary War victory in the 1770s. Growing up, I remember many family celebrations. But one stands out.

I was in high school, and out-of-town relatives were visiting for the Fourth of July. Unlike in Tucson, Arizona, where we lived before moving here to Sheridan, Wyoming, there were few, if any, options for viewing public fireworks displays. So, we resorted to shooting our own, which was illegal.

Since our street had little traffic, we used it as a launching pad for rockets and other devices. As Dad poised in the middle of the street, lighter in hand, and we stood a safe distance away, anticipating a glorious show of red, white, and blue, a car suddenly appeared and slowly approached. In the gathering dusk, we could only assume it was the police. But to our relief, the car pulled to the curb, and Grandma emerged.

Being older, she drove more slowly. So, her vehicle could have easily been mistaken for a patrol car. We were thankful not to celebrate our freedom behind bars.

This scare did not stop our family from staging our own fireworks displays every Fourth of July. Fortunately, no one was arrested or seriously injured.

Now, with no family around, I’ll celebrate Independence Day on my own, either by walking to the park for ice cream or attending a band concert with friends. Being visually impaired, I’m not going to attempt to shoot fireworks. No matter what I do, I’ll express my pride in being an American and being free. However, events in Ukraine and other parts of the world have shown that freedom is something never to be taken for granted.

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Do you have any memorable Fourth of July celebrations?

Thanks to beetleypete for inspiring my Life’s Alphabet series with a similar one of his own that he posted last December. Every day, he wrote about his life, using consecutive letters of the alphabet. You can check out his blog here.

Photo Courtesy of Tess Anderson Photography

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New! Why Grandma Doesn’t Know Me

Independently published with the help of DLD Books.

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Two Pentacles Publishing.

Sixteen-year-old Natalie’s grandmother, suffering from dementia and confined to a wheelchair, lives in a nursing home and rarely recognizes Natalie. But one Halloween night, she tells her a shocking secret that only she and Natalie’s mother know. Natalie is the product of a one-night stand between her mother, who is a college English teacher, and another professor.

After some research, Natalie learns that people with dementia often have vivid memories of past events. Still not wanting to believe what her grandmother has told her, she finds her biological father online. The resemblance between them is undeniable. Not knowing what else to do, she shows his photo and website to her parents.

Natalie realizes she has some growing up to do. Scared and confused, she reaches out to her biological father, and they start corresponding.

Her younger sister, Sarah, senses their parents’ marital difficulties. At Thanksgiving, when she has an opportunity to see Santa Claus, she asks him to bring them together again. Can the jolly old elf grant her request?

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What I Did on the Fourth #MondayMusings #Jottings #Inspiration

When I was growing up in Tucson, Arizona, during the 1960s and early 70s, we attended fireworks displays on the Fourth of July, which were usually held at the university. Although I don’t remember too much about them, I imagine that during my early childhood years, the loud banging and popping scared me to death. But when I grew older, despite my limited vision, I loved sitting on the grass, looking up, and beholding the multi-colored lights and shapes that seemed to sail across the sky. I vaguely remember one year when I could see fireworks from our front lawn, and I thought they could be seen all over the world.

After my family moved to Sheridan, Wyoming, in 1973, we stopped attending fireworks displays, because there weren’t any here. By that time, I was twelve years old and wasn’t nearly as fascinated by them as I was when I was younger. Dad decided that we should buy our own and shoot them off on the Fourth of July, even though it was illegal.

I remember one particular Independence Day when I was in high school. The street where we lived had little traffic. Relatives from out of town were visiting, and we were all gathered in front of our house to watch Dad’s makeshift fireworks display, which was taking place in the middle of the street. It was getting dark.

Dad was hunched over, igniting something, when suddenly, a car appeared, seemingly from nowhere, and drove slowly toward him. We all held our breath, fearing a neighbor had called the police about our fireworks. As the car drew closer, we realized that it was only Grandma. In her old age, she drove more cautiously than she did when she was younger. She pulled to the curb, stepped out of her blue Cadillac, and we all laughed with relief. After that, we went outside the city limits to shoot off our Fourth of July fireworks.

How about you? What have you enjoyed doing on the Fourth of July?

Thanks to Tom Kaufman, facilitator of The Breakfast Bunch, a program held on Zoom through ACB Community Calls, for inspiring this. The Breakfast Bunch is a weekly chat activity where we meet to reminisce about anything and everything. If you’d like to learn about other community programs sponsored by the American Council of the Blind, you can email: community@acb.org and request a daily schedule that will land in your inbox. I hope those of you in the United States have a safe and happy Fourth of July!

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And now, I’m pleased to announce that until the end of the month, all my books can be downloaded from Smashwords ABSOLUTELY FREE as part of its summer/winter sale. You can click here to visit my author page and download these books. Happy reading!

New! Why Grandma Doesn’t Know Me

Independently published with the help of DLD Books.

Natalie realizes she has some growing up to do. Scared and confused, she reaches out to her biological father, and they start corresponding.

***

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Thank you and Happy 245th Birthday, America! #FridayFinds

To commemorate Independence Day, July 4th, here in the United States, I’m sharing fellow blogger Alice Massa’s poem, expressing gratitude for her family’s ability to immigrate to this country during the earlier part of the 20th century. Since most U.S. citizens, if not all, are descended from immigrants, I can’t think of a better way to show patriotism. If you live in my country, have a safe and happy Fourth of July.

alice13wordwalk

Thank You, America!

by Alice Jane-Marie Massa

Thank you, America,

for welcoming to your eastern shore,

in the early 1900s,

four immigrants from Italy–

later to become

the parents of my parents

and good citizens of the adopted,

the chosen country–

America.

Thank you, Lady Liberty,

for holding high your torch

to light the way

to Ellis Island,

where my grandparents’ dreams

first met land of the USA.

Thank you, Indiana,

for giving my paternal grandparents

some of your precious farmland–

a grape arbor, too.

Thank you, Indiana,

for allowing my maternal grandparents

to build a grocery store and Italian bakery

in your Vermillion County.

Thank you, Saint Frances Xavier Cabrini,

for blessing these four immigrants

from Italy to Indiana,

with a safe voyage,

with seven sons

and five daughters,

with eighteen grandchildren–

all of whom went on to do well

in this new home of our immigrant forefathers.

From…

View original post 105 more words

Patriotic Medley #Monday Musical Memory

As you read this, I’m returning from a wonderful vacation with my brother and his family in Florida. The Fourth of July is coming up, and I’m thinking back to how my family spent the holiday when I was growing up.

When we lived in Tucson, Arizona, we often attended fireworks displays at the local university. Although my vision was limited, I enjoyed watching the pyrotechnics show in the sky. I might have been scared at first of the booms and bangs, but I most remember gazing in fascination at the explosions of color and shapes. One year, I could even see them from our front lawn.

We moved here to Sheridan, Wyoming, when I was twelve. At the time, there were no public displays, so we bought our own fireworks. These consisted mostly of sparklers, pop bottle rockets, and Roman candles. They weren’t as elaborate as the colorful displays we saw in Tucson. So, for me, they weren’t as fun.

One year when I was in high school, Dad was kneeling in the middle of the street, about to light one, when a car slowly approached. Thinking it was a police car, we held our breath, since fireworks were illegal in town. Then, to our relief, we realized it was Grandma, who was always a slow driver.

After I became a registered music therapist and started working in a nursing home, Dad acquired an Irish setter who was born on the Fourth of July. Her original owner had named her Old Glory, but Dad changed that to Maud, after William Butler Yeats’ mistress. Fireworks must have been shot off at Maud’s birth because she was fearful of booms and bangs. After she came along, no more fireworks were shot off in our family.

You can now click the link below to hear me sing a medley of familiar patriotic songs. This may inspire you to shoot off some fireworks of your own. If so, please enjoy them responsibly.

Patriotic Medley

What do you remember about the Fourth of July when you were growing up? Did you shoot your own fireworks or attend a display? Did your family traditionally have a picnic? What did you eat? Have a happy and safe Fourth of July!

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That’s Life: New and Selected Poems

How to Build a better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver

We Shall Overcome

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Holiday Hardship

The Fourth of July is just around the corner, and like other holidays, it’s not something I look forward to, especially with no close relatives. I’ll probably eat lunch at the senior center. They’re having barbecued pork sandwiches which sounds pretty good. I may run into my former high school English teacher who eats there every day. She was one of those teachers who inspired me to read, and although she’s elderly and forgetful, I still enjoy eating lunch with her.

I remember great times we had on the Fourth of July when I was a kid. In Tucson, Arizona, we attended fireworks displays. At first, I covered my ears to shut out the loud bangs, but with my limited vision, I watched, fascinated, as colorful shapes exploded in the night sky. When we moved to Sheridan, Wyoming, there were no public displays so we bought our own fireworks and shot them off at home, although it was illegal. One time, Dad was kneeling in the middle of the street, about to light one, when we spotted a car coming slowly towards him the way police cars did when patrolling the neighborhood. We stood with baited breath, wondering if we would spend the rest of the holiday behind bars, but as the vehicle pulled to the curb in front of our house, we realized it was Grandma. We were never more glad to see her than at that time.

The following from That’s Life: New and Selected Poems, compares how sad holidays can be without close family to how difficult they can be when all the relatives congregate at my house to celebrate. It talks more about Thanksgiving and Christmas, but the concept is the same for all holidays.

HOLIDAY HARDSHIP

Thanksgiving is coming.

Already, a friend far away

asks if I have plans.

I’ll spend Christmas

in the tropics with my brother,

but Thanksgiving’s up in the air

with no husband, father, mother.

Other relatives have plans.

At least I don’t have to clean the house,

shop, prepare food for twelve people,

pick up after everyone,

deal with leftovers

while men watch football,

women fail to be helpful,

children run around,

scream, argue, cry.

It’s not the same.

What do you remember about the Fourth of July when you were growing up?

Abbie Johnson Taylor, Author of We Shall Overcome and How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver and That’s Life: New and Selected Poems

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