There are no day camps this week for the Grands. No sailing, Taylor Swift, or pottery camps. Plus, on July 1, all the brand-spanking-new doctors have started their rounds, and so the Groom has a lot of teaching to do in the MICU, and the Bride gets to explain how to write a prescription to an intern. It can be taxing, and so I cook dinner for six people just in case they get home in time. On July 4, we’ll be relaxing by our dear neighbor’s pool while the “little doctors,” as Grandma Ada called them, save lives.
This Fourth will be the 75th anniversary, if you want to call it that, of the Flapper’s car accident. Dr Jim has been doing some soul searching around the event that left our Nana, Mother, and Sister lying bloodied and comatose on the side of the road. He was only seven years old, and so it was up to him to tell the police their names and where they lived. It is an early memory, but not his first. That was the day, earlier that Year of Living Dangerously, when our Father returned from the hospital after brain surgery, his head wrapped in bandages.
Sometimes I wonder what memories our Grands will keep with them. I’ll bet they will remember their parents coming home from their hospitals during the pandemic and having to shower before a hug. Will they remember seeing the David in Florence? Or will they remember a feeling of ease, an all encompassing feeling that everything will be alright when they arrive at Nana Camp? That it’s not all action and adventure all the time. Sometimes we bake muffins with abandon, or we swim in the pool. Sometimes we take field trips to museums and then we watch Jeopardy! There’s a rhythm to life in this house, and my grilled cheese sandwiches often hit the mark.
Today the Bride is home and so we are off duty. I try not to think about the recent SCOTUS decisions. Like the presidential debate/debacle, I put those thoughts into the “things I cannot change” basket. I can put the basket in a river and let the water flow through it, or I can unpack the basket on the riverbank and perseverate about our time and place in history. I’m not a Monday night MSNBC type. It’s hard to imagine changing course so close to an election, and I know Joe Biden.
Like my birth family, Irish Catholics from Scranton, PA, he will never give up. When the going gets tough and all. Like the Flapper telling her doctors she’ll not only walk again, she’ll dance on their graves. We come from a strong line of strong, smart women forged by coal miners. I’ll bet Dr Jill has ancestors just as tough and resilient. We need a Democrat in the White House now more than ever, so I’ll be voting accordingly.
Have a safe and uneventful Fourth of July. Steer clear of the naysayers and knee-jerkers. Look at the long view. America is still that beautiful shining city, our democracy cannot topple over!
MountainMornings 