Cookouts, fireworks, swimming pools, family and friends — all over the US, and most importantly, in a couple of specific places in Maryland and Virginia, that is what’s happening today. I’m really missing home — I’m really wishing I was there. July 4th is nothing other than the first Monday of July here, of course, and it’s a weird, lonely feeling — like everyone forgetting your birthday. Intellectually, of course, I completely understand, but emotionally, I really feel like I’m missing out. I also know that these are formative years in terms of my kids understanding and appreciating holidays, and I worry that they’re missing out, too.
We had a nice day today, but it was one of those days where we start trying to leave the house around 8:30 in the morning and actually get out of the house at 4:30 in the afternoon. Once out, though, we revisited St. Stephen’s (Benjamin did another, “I wish for all my family to be happy” prayers, and really, how can that not make my day?) and went to the Vienna Opera House.
But the best part is happening right now. I’m listening to Benjamin ask questions and respond to things from his bedtime story, and he is absolutely astonishing to me. He’s already told us, “The sun is not a planet” and “I love dark rain clouds — they’re full of lots and lots of rain that goes drop, drop, drop”. I can’t think of a better thing to help mitigate my feeling of being far from home than being near my children.
Happy birthday, America: I miss you.