I will ever and always get a kick out of the
lure of the open road and that demanding
lust to return home.
So love our getaways, particularly when
it pertains to seeing our children. Still . . .
there comes a time to go and catch up with
all that has happened there and a time to
return for the same reason.
Having arrived a couple of days prior to
the 4th, I enjoyed the anticipation, the
build up . . . friends arriving, food to be
prepared and shared, water balloon fights,
spiked lemonade and finally, the arrival of
night so we could enjoy those fireworks.
The city was doing their display to one
side of us and the neighbors on the other.
I won't confess here, but let me say good
things were happening somewhere 'twixt
and 'tween! I loved hearing children's
squeals, the adults' anticipation . . . and
then there's moi, having to run and hide
when the noise got too loud.
I want to remember, remember that far
distant past when those who thought they
were in the right, fought for this land. I
want to remember the growing up years
and the 4ths spent with family now long
gone. I want to remember the joy in our
children, those of then and these of now,
as they much thrill in both the day and
its anticipation.
We must never, ever forget the price
paid by one and all for this that we call
home . . .
oh give me a home
where oh where and at what price
sorrow loss and gain
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