A Dual Birthday Celebration

As I mentioned before, I'm a bit behind on blogging. I'm sitting in St. George, Utah as I write this, as we have begun our month long Western summer extravaganza. Granted July 4th is now old news...but I took the pictures, have a partially composed post in my head, and so I can't let a good thing go to waste. The day was one big birthday celebration for us--4th of July festivities and my Grandma's 90th birthday.

I'd have to put the 4th up with one of my favorite holidays. It almost always turns out to be a fun day with minimal effort on our part. So this is how we celebrated: First, we got word that our neighborhood puts on a July 4th bike parade. So after getting dressed for the occasion, decorating Ella's bike and flags in hand, we treked to the starting point of the parade.
Kids literally came out of the woodwork--there were gobs of bikes, parents and strollers. A fire truck led the parade, with a couple hundred people trailing behind. Having that many inexperienced, young bike riders in a large procession is a bit kamikaze-like: They come out of nowhere, are fearless and they don't have a whole lot of regard for whose feet they run over.

We ended the parade with popsicles, climbing on the fire truck and a series of games you might see at an elementary school carnival--ring toss, bean bag toss, etc.

It really was a highly organized event and it gave us a better feel for the composition of our new neighborhood.

After unpacking a few boxes, we headed to my parents' for a cookout and birthday celebration for my Grandma. I provided the birthday cake--a classic carrot cake with cream cheese frosting--an all-American touch, I thought.

My Grandma moved in with my parents two years ago, and she has become so ingrained in our lives, I can't imagine not having her here. Although she often jokes (or not) about how she should no longer be on this earth, she has been my own personal lesson on endurance and endless service. After watching your spouse, all of your siblings and the majority of your peers pass on, how can you not help but feel left behind?

Like so many other WWII/Great Depression survivors, she has strength that most of us can only sit back and admire. She is a rock. Despite common ailments of old age, she is in relatively good health. Afraid that she will be a burden to those around her, she is not only productive, but a blessing. She works daily on genealogical name extraction for our church (requiring the use of a computer, a fairly complex computer program and e-mail). Although only an estimate, I would guess she has contributed to/made about 20 quilts in the last year: some of those hand-pieced and hand quilted. She does needlepoint, is an avid shopper (undoubtedly the best-dressed Grandma around) and even accompanies us on day-long outlet shopping trips, babysits my kids, packed my entire kitchen for me, scrubbed the kitchen and bathrooms of our house before we moved in, drives, makes and dips chocolates, sends birthday cards to all of her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and travels cross-country to see family members. My girls love her immensely. Samantha goes to her readily, anxious to grab her beautiful head of white hair. Ella is very close with her--they watch movies and read together, play Uno and can't part ways until they have a "hundred million squeezes." Really, what will we ever do without her?

Following our time in St. George, we head to Bear Lake in Idaho where our extended family is gathering for a reunion to wish her a Happy 90th Birthday. She is so excited and we recognize this is probably the last time the entire family will be together with her at once. It should be a great time.

And we finished the day off with fireworks at a nearby high school. We will gear up one year to take our kids to downtown DC, but 1) Brian and I have done it countless times and 2) I want my kids to be a little older to appreciate it. I'm not enduring the metro and the drunken masses when they're just as enchanted by the local high school fireworks.

Sadly, the 4th is one of the few times of the year when I ponder for any considerable length of time how fortunate we are to live in this country. At one point during the day, Ella asked me why July 4th was such a big deal. I launched into a grand speech about how we live in a free country and what exactly that means: We are free to worship God in any way we choose, we are free to say and write whatever we want, and we have certain protections simply by being citizens of this country. For these reasons, people flock to America, desperate for the quality of life we take for granted every day. And I have to say, I got rather passionate about all this--it took me by surprise, actually. For all its shortcomings, this truly is a country worth celebrating.