The Amonetts and Taylors have turned the evening of July fourth into a celebration of country, camaraderie, and coleslaw. Thaus and I brought Gram and the kids over to our hosting neighbors for a grilled meat festivity and fireworks extravaganza.
Let's get this party started! (Taylor kids and X)
Grillmaster Ty. He makes 'em black for the ladies.
Me and Tam. I am so lucky to live close to my good friend and running partner.
Thaus without spider monkey X attached to him. I had to take a picture because this happens about as many times as a lunar eclipse.
X loving on a neighbor's kitty. The best part was listening to his species confusion for the following three days. Instead of his usual jibber jabber, there was meowing...and lots of it.
Tanned and toned Ty & Tamie. I am thinking about sending this one in for the cover of Sports Illustrated, married Mormon edition.
Get a good look at the 'do, 'cause it won't be there for long!
Xavier is terrified of pyrotechnics, which is an ironic statement in itself because if you have ever heard him scream, it sounds a lot like the shrill screeching of purple comets. The only time he prefers me over his father is when the ear-scorching pops, crackles, and booms are in action. Needless to say, I got some extra cuddle time throughout the month with my little monkey. I was ready to shoot fireworks every night just so he would let me hold him. I rocked him on the front porch while everyone else was in front-row position for the street display. I was able to catch more than one show per my view, and the solo time permitted me a reflective moment on celebrations past.
My grandfather had passed away the night of the fourth, a few minutes after ten o'clock mountain time. It was just after midnight in Indiana when I received a call that Grandpa had been released from his earthly sojourn and weary mortal body. I was relieved at the ending of his suffering, and thrilled that he was once again reunited with his mother after a long and humbling seventy-three year separation.
When I was a child, the Fourth of July was a cause of celebration for many reasons, my great-grandmother's birthday being one of them. My parents would host a much anticipated annual family reunion at our home, as we packed aunt, uncle, cousin, and clodhopper onto our half acre piece of heaven. My adult memories of those days seem as vivid as the blue summer sky, yet somehow, even after a couple passing decades, my inner child remembers the watermelon tasting a little sweeter, my cousin's laugh being a little more infectious, and my grandparent's embrace a little more enduring. As I relived these memories, a smile crossed my lips. Grandpa always put on a spectacular fireworks show to close the evening and now he was receiving one heck of a send-off. Here was a life-long Indiana boy, grandson of a German immigrant, once stricken with polio, now reunited with family, hugging each and every one of them with the strength of both arms.
Enjoy your new found independence, Grandpa. We'll be hanging tough without you!
No comments:
Post a Comment