My surgeon admonished me last Friday for doing too much after I showed up with 24 hours of pain at an incision site.
I left his office frustrated mostly because I had only spent the week before doing only 70% of what I normally do. I grumbled and reworked the first week of July to do less including not going to fireworks with my family.
On July 3rd, I got an email from my husband about going to watch the fireworks downtown instead of nearby. I didn’t care.
My phone rang soon after with plans for our dog to go to my in-laws and us to go to a hotel that faced the James River. Scott could take the kids down to the festivities by the James and back up to the room for us to watch the fireworks as a family. He sent us to the hotel with smiles and packed us up after he got off work.
Finally Fireworks on the James!
Would it have been a big deal to miss out on one Independence Day? No.
But hearing my kids ooh and ah….
Teaching them the joy of breakfast in bed…
And most of all, falling a little more in love with my husband, who has dealt with a surgery, which was supposed to solve a year-long issue in five days and is instead going into its sixth week, with grace, and created an adorable solution for his family to celebrate the fourth of July together….
All of these moments reminded my little patriotic heart how blessed I am to live in our beautiful, young, frustrating and hopeful country.
I hope my American readers were able to celebrate our country’s founding in some special way, too. And as always, I listened to a reading of the Declaration of Independence and teared up. Now that document is some good writing.