The Fourth of July has never been an event that I exclusively look forward to. The idea of being forced into what feels like a war zone isn't so appealing and the fact that we do it for fun kind of disgusts me. Am I the only one who sees fireworks that way? Think about it: searing rockets splitting the sky, explosions surrounding you, random bursts of light and flame engulfing the air...we imitate a war zone! And we do it for fun! Sick. Really sick.
By the time it was dark enough to do fireworks, I was exhausted. Earlier, my family had hiked at Sundance and we met a young girl with a birth defect who was unable to walk on her own. Her left pant-leg, just below the knee, hung empty and swayed in the wind. I watched her skillfully maneuver her crutches along the trail that was maybe barely a foot wide. My dad talked to her and her dad as we hiked. They were visiting from Tennessee and their Southern accents told stories and random facts about themselves in a way that vaguely reminded me of the get-to-know-you game. I learned that this girl went all through high school on crutches. She never used a wheelchair and never wanted one. She liked hiking, and just because one leg was dysfunctional, didn't mean she wasn't going to do it. Her dad mentioned that she was wanting to hike to the Timpanogos Caves before they left (Can you imagine? I don't like the steep incline on two legs, let alone on crutches!). All in all, they were nice people and I was absolutely blown away at how well she handled the hike. It's amazing to see people who, despite their circumstances, simply refuse the idea that something can't be done. If I were in her situation, I can pretty much guarantee that I would not be hiking. In all honesty, I'd probably take the wheelchair. It was neat to learn about them. That hike was easily one of my favourite hikes, simply because I knew that I had nothing on her and certainly no room to complain. It's a comfort to know that there are still goodhearted people out there who put their full effort into achieving what some would call impossible. Afterall, someone's going to have to compensate for people like me.
No, sharing that story doesn't really give me room to complain about how tired I was, but really, I was done for the day. There's a reason I don't have a birth defect; I'm not the inspirational type.
While my dad was getting ready to start the fireworks, we had a conversation that went something like this:
"Dad, we're the only ones doing fireworks on our whole street."
"Well...oh, look! That family down there is doing some."
"They don't count. The point is, we never get invited to parties."
And I was SO right.
The street adjacent ours had a huge crowd gathered and they were blowing up some really big fireworks. Y'know, the ones that are now apparently legal? Yeah, those ones. While those were blowing up, I got to watch my dad occasionally burn his finger and curse the fuse lines on our Walmart package. Y'know, the fireworks that spit colours from a box? Yeah, those ones. So, we watched our fireworks, overwhelmed with excitement as they were clearly the most compelling fireworks on the block that night, and then...it started raining. I experienced a new perspective of fireworks this year. After the wind knocked them over, I had the unique privilege of watching them catch fire and melt their packaging. We ended up just going inside and watching television.
What can I say? Whit Happens.
P.S. I don't usually mix my sarcastic complaints with serious issues. I really do, sincerely, admire that girl from the hike. I'm not trying to make light of her injury.
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