Been thinking about family a lot today. I was fortunate enough to visit with several of my by-blood family members last month, so it was nice to switch it up on today's holiday, and spend the day with my by-choice family. The biggest drawback to living our nomadic life is how often we move away from friends, and how hard it is to maintain relationships while in near-constant motion. It's even harder, considering the line of work that supports us, also supports many of our friends, who are nomadic like we are. This morning, I had to say goodbye to some of my very favorite work friends, including my darling girl that I have called "my practice grandbaby" since she was a year old. They fly away tomorrow, and I am so sad I can't stand it. They will be out of reach for me under normal circumstances for quite some time. The mom of this family said they'll probably be back on the east coast at Christmas time, and I decided I will have to drive up and meet them then. My girl will be so changed in six months. She'll go from a charming, precocious four year old, to being a jaded almost-teenager in that amount of time. They all do it.
For most of my life, I've had serious hangups about fireworks. When I was a little kid, in Germany, we were at a fireworks display, seated a bit too close for comfort. One of the giant aerials didn't burn sufficiently, and a hot cinder landed directly on the top of my head, burning me. I freaked out, and became distrustful of all fireworks. Even as I grew into an adult, I could never quite kick the fear that it would happen again, if I was too close. But I still liked watching them from afar. Home fireworks are a whole different story though. To this day, I really don't trust them at all. The spinning, jumping flower ones are the worst. Those things take off after people. They're mean. It's only been in the last four years or so that I've learned to control my fears, and stay calm around them when my friends are lighting them in the street.
After a laid-back cookout with most of my Bonfire family, we were surrounded on all sides by a constant show of booming aerials. It was fun to see big sparkly lights peeking through the trees, but the boys had bought a bunch of fireworks of their own, so we marched out to the cul-de-sac to set them off. I was so proud of myself. I didn't get panicky, and chatter inanely like I do when I'm nervous, because of the proximity of my friends to things that blow up. I sat the whole time, relaxed, trying to hear the 1812 Overture playing way too quietly on my phone (turned up all the way, even), and I took pictures of all the beautiful colored lights that launched right in front of me. You can't imagine what progress this is. The real test will be next year, when we find out whether I can remain calm and rational when it's my man directly next to the burning fuses. I have a vested interest in keeping him whole and healthy. He, on the other hand, is completely fearless, and will be putting on a hell of a show for our friend-family.
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