July 4

On Independence Day, our family attended the parade here in Provo, cooking breakfast burritos on the sidewalk and sharing them with the sweet girl who shared her space on the grass with us. (Who knew that three hours early was not early enough to get a space big enough for a six-person family at the parade in Provo? We had thought about camping out, but decided to save that for next year in favor of our comfy beds--and noted that even at 8pm the night before the entire parade route was positively packed, except for the areas restricted until morning. The girl who shared her spot with us had been there since 4:45 am, the earliest people were allowed in that area.) The kids and Justin played board games and blew bubbles, and we all loved the "Star Wars guys" of the Fallen Warrior Project, a full garrison of full-costumed Star Wars characters ostensibly raising money for injured American soldiers. I was reading the names of some of the best floats to the kids as they passed, and when one really lovely one went by, I started calling out, "Primary Childrens Medical..." and the rest got caught in my throat. In the sunshine and stress and fun, for a few minutes I had completely forgotten my crazy fragmented life... but in that moment was struck with the strangeness of not having my family all together.