I am on vacation this week. This is the week I chose last September with my then-husband. For the past several years we had been going to the fireworks in Manhattan. Bringing chairs and a picnic supper to sit on the West Side Highway (which is closed) and waiting for the Macy's fireworks to start. It was going to be a new tradition for us. Or so I thought.
I have always loved fireworks. We went almost every year to the Hamden fireworks display. I still remember the first year we went. The kids were small and we went early to listen to the music and of course, to eat. I didn't think the display could rival those I grew up with in New Haven or West Haven. How could you have fireworks that were not on the beach? But they were awesome! I was so excited! It seemed as though we were right underneath them. I was very vocal in my appreciation much to my kids' dismay. We went every year after that until they were too big to come with us. Then we went alone. I remember once telling them that even when I am old and infirm I want one of them to take me to the fireworks every Fourth of July.
I forgot about the Hamden fireworks this year. Well, maybe I didn't forget but I didn't go. I almost drove there to watch from my car but I couldn't bring myself to even do that. Friends have called as each holiday passed. You have made it through your first Christmas, New Years, Easter. But this holiday is the one that hurts the most. I am a summer person and I love being outside on my beach chair, drinking wine and eating outdoors, maybe listening to music or waiting for the fireworks to start.
My friend Annie gave me a plant that we call the fireworks plant. I have it in a pot in front of my garage where I see it every time I go in and out of my house. It makes me smile every time I look at it. I think that is as close as I'll get to the fireworks this year.
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