This is shaping up to be one of those summers where I am hoping to tuck everything away to savor. It’s been a small and quiet summer; purposeful and enjoyable. We’ve cooked out, we’ve gone to our neighborhood Fourth of July parade, and we went to W’s first live fireworks show. I was amused by how nonchalant W was about going to see fireworks.
“I’ve seen them!” is what he would say when I would try to get him pumped up. I told him seeing them on television or from the window of our hotel room in Wildwood last summer is not the same. It’s visceral. It’s emotional. It’s LOUD. He continued to shrug as if we were going to the movies. He was mostly excited about being able to stay up so late.
We walked the several blocks down to the big open field in our new neighborhood and stretched out a thick blanket. Seeing other families setting up and children running around was exciting for W – he started to get the sense that this WAS different. Of course explaining the concept of dusk to a six-year-old was, uh, not exactly simple.
“When will it begin?!!!”
“At dusk. It has to be dark.”
“But it IS dark.”
W bravely asked to join in on games other kids were playing while we waited and I basked in the feeling of neighborhood. I continue to feel so at home in our new place. It is such a welcoming and inclusive community. We are so lucky to be here.
A quarter after nine a rocket soared into the sky and lit the air with light. W was in awe. More fireworks blasted and bloomed and with each display he exclaimed, “it’s a miracle!”
W must have shouted, “It’s a miracle!!!” six times. It was something he just could not contain. I mean why would you? Fireworks are amazing. And seeing them live for the first time? Pretty fantastic. After the show was over a small group of teachers from a nearby Catholic school, who had been watching the fireworks near us, came over to tell W how much they enjoyed his enthusiasm. “It’s nice to always be reminded.” One of them grinned, and patted W on his shoulders.
Just as those teachers enjoyed W, I have been delighting in him. He’s becoming more and more himself every day and as it happens I find myself settling into the kind of mom I want to be. It’s not perfect, but there have been some wonderful pockets where I have exhaled with pure contentment. THIS. This is the dream I dreamed. Parenting. Motherhood. Witnessing the evolution of a person. Everyday we are becoming more and more us.