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| Maia running after lighting fireworks with Geoff |
I watch my Maia’s eyes light up at the
mere mention of fireworks. With her
excitement, I am transported back to my own childhood and the Fourth of
July. Beach side fireworks lighting up
the sky, igniting my imagination. As I got older, that imagination led to
innovation. Hours were spent trying to
figure out how to create the perfect bottle rocket cannon to shoot tiny
projectiles across the pond to (or at) neighbors as they aimed their creations
in our direction. I wouldn’t dream of
allowing my daughter to do the same, but the world of 20 years ago seemed so
different, so carefully and maybe reckless.
When did I grow up?
How did this evolution happen?
Those carefree and muggy South Florida days seem like yesterday and like
eons ago. I have vivid memories of
wolfing down charred hot dogs and hamburgers so I wouldn’t miss a moment of the
action. I had to prove that the only
girl (and kid with Cerebral Palsy) in the neighborhood could triumph. I may not have had their physical prowess,
but I could certainly out engineer them.
Fourth of July afforded me the opportunity to showcase my talents (built
with copious amounts of my father’s help).
I quickly learned to appreciate the beauty of simplicity. Trust
me, a length of PVC pipe with a cap on the base is an effective bottle rocket
launcher. With age, I often find myself
in a self-made quagmire of complexities and wonder where I lost Occam’s razor
along the way.
As my daughter grows older, I want her to cherish the simple
joys in life. For me, Fourth of July was
a great evening spent with family and friends.
I don’t remember the clothes I wore or the cars people drove, but I do
remember how everyone let loose and enjoyed the finer things in life, no matter
how simple.
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