Celebrations of the Heart

America will once again celebrate its birthday, July 4th.  Families all over America will go to the beach, have barbecue parties in their backyards, light firecrackers, and enjoy a day of fun in the sun. Many immigrants will be sworn in as new American citizens:  a goal these many have given up a lot to live for.  It is a day for mirth, rest and togetherness. It so happens that my own birthday hovers after July 4th, and this American tradition has become to me a constant and not-so-discrete reminder that mine is coming up.  Actually, the two weeks leading up to July 4th and the two weeks following July 4th were packed with other celebratory events for me :  my father's birthday, and my parents' wedding anniversary.  In days past, July 4th gave me a wonderful venue for hosting these celebrations, firing up the barbecue grill and having a day of family togetherness.

Those days are past.  My parents have passed on, the kids are grown, and my immediate and extended family happens to now live in various states and countries.

Longfellow wrote: "The holiest of all holidays are those kept by ourselves in silence and apart, the secret anniversaries of the heart...."

So tomorrow, as America celebrates its 238th birthday, I too will celebrate, more silently, more distantly.  I will celebrate the blessings of having been born in the Philippines, of having immigrated to America in my 20s and of having chosen to become an American citizen before I was too old.

I will  celebrate the heart-warming memories of many "Fourth's" gone by:  barbecues in our backyard in New Jersey, my family around me, amidst the heat of the sun and the splashing of children playing in the pool.  I will think of singular rites of passage, the first time we put our six-month old daughter in the pool, my sisters and I getting food ready for the barbecue, my parents' 40th wedding anniversary,  watching our kids and their cousins run, swim and play.   I will  think of the times I watched each of the kids - mine and my nephews - swim;  and the times my sisters and I prepared a summer meal together. I will also think of the last time I heard Vincent laugh, the last time I held my father's hand, the last time I hugged my mother.

Sarah Ban Breathnach writes, "anniversaries of the heart are not restricted by the passage of the years...  there is always time enough to remember.  But there is never time to commemorate what we cherish, unless we pause to observe..."

Tomorrow, I will pause, find the time to cherish the memories, and celebrate with my heart.

Happy 4th!