I spent my Independence Day weekend remitting my beloved grandparents to an assisted living apartment; giving up their independence. I gave up a lot to get to be there for my grandmother, who is my familial best friend, and had to leave her crying in her apartment. I get made fun of a lot for being a Jimmy Buffet fan, but when it comes to the fourth of July I think of this song. "The Night I Painted the Sky" It reminds me of nights like this past Monday, when my Uncle and is family, and my best friend, joined us for cheap fireworks and decadent sundaes in the hot Nebraska night. Everyone quits bickering, and picking at one another, and one fifth of the Stewarts (12) are still and sitting for more than five minutes. It's like a deep sigh in the middle of a crowded football game. If you enjoy this song, check out this album. I think it's both delicate and fun.
It's the child in me, selfish as it sounds, who can't say goodbye to the old house on Washington Street, now decrepit and falling down. I walked into the kitchen, during the move, and pressed my hand against the oak paneling and felt, for sure, it was not only my grandparents who were moving on but a goodbye to my home too.