The fourth of July triggers wave after wave of deja vu…. walking the same sidewalk to the neighborhood parade, everyone dressed in red, white and blue, kids on bikes speeding past, young couples unloading strollers from cars, heat rising from the asphalt… babies who once rode in bike trailers are pulling their siblings behind. And I can’t quite remember– was it Stefan’s shoulders Mary rode on, or was it Hans’? Memories from past 4ths shift and scatter. But it’s always the same, gathering at the S-curve, chatting with neighbors, everyone relaxed and cheerful.
Everything the same, just a little bit different.
