While the rest of the world enjoyed, picnics, family, and fireworks.
I spent the weekend here.
On my dirty sofa wishing I was well enough to get to all the things I had planned. We did nothing festive, nothing special, it was just another weekend. Nothing marked the importance of the day at our house. Oh, my husband read the Constitution and other documents, but missing was the party, the people, and the fireworks. You know how some people get depressed around Christmas because they miss the way things were? Well that is how I feel about this day. When we were first married and lived in Illinois we would have a party at our house. Not just any party but a large gathering with so many people you could hardly speak with everyone, to many children to count, and so much food the tables seemed to bend toward the ground. Everyone loved coming over and celebrating, it was just a quick walk across the street to view the fireworks, and the fellowship was memorable. We had such high hopes when we moved of having the same kind of gathering, oh not right at first of course but perhaps the next year. What we didn't know was that no one stays here for the holidays, everyone has family and some other place to go. It's rather lonely for those of us who come from somewhere else. It's been 4 summers now you would think we would be used to it. Apparently not. In a way I was glad I was sick, I didn't have to pretend to be happy, or pretend that I was enjoying the day. I could remember what was before and I pray that we can have again. Someday.