Remembering

The Fourth of July is a day for remembering. Remembering why we love our country and how blessed we are in so many ways to be free and have a democracy even though it isn't perfect.

It's a holiday of celebration.

While our family is going to parades, barbequing with friends, and watching the fireworks, I will be remembering what I lost on the Fourth last year. I think it will always be this way.

Tomorrow I will be celebrating with my family and trying to make memories for our children that will last into their adulthood like the ones I have and hold so dear to my heart of spending the Fourth of July with my family as a child. I remember piling bean bags, pillows, and blankets in the back of my dad's pick-up truck and watching the fireworks together, trying to guess which color would be next. Even though I have so many good memories of the Fourth and plan to make many more, there will be moments tomorrow that I will take and allow myself to remember the pain of last year. How I toughed it out for the kids' sake to go to the parade (held the day before since the Fourth was on a Sunday) even though I was pretty sure I knew what was already beginning to happen in my body, even though I could feel it. How I made it through the barbeque on Saturday evening, but missed Mass on Sunday morning and seeing the fireworks light up my children's eyes because I was in bed the whole day of the Fourth. I'll allow myself these memories, not to dwell on them or let depression seep in, but to remember my Sweet Pea's brief existence on this earth, in my womb, when otherwise she would be forgotten. That's the only thing I can do for her. I didn't get a chance to do anything for her, but I can remember her.