I’m running for school board so I thought it would be a great opportunity to be in the parade. Our white Ford pickup belonged to Luke’s maternal grandfather. He bought it new in 1966 and I bet he’d be ticked patriotic to know we’re using it in the Fourth of July parade. After asking around, I learned I need about sixty pounds of goods to make it down Spring street during the parade. I ordered thirty pounds of Tootsie Rolls wrapped in American Flag-esque wrappers and 3,600 apple-shaped erasers. I’ve ordered t-shirts for each adult, each child waving and candy-throwing from pickup’s bed. Yup. I’m pretty into parades.
Our friend Greg was killed in Kirkuk, Iraq on Good Friday four years ago. He died one week after my second daughter, Lucy, was born. The last time I saw him we stood curbside, waving at a parade. From Greg, I’ve learned a lot about life and death and parades.
In this week’s Today’s Mama piece entitled Parades, Memories of a Fallen Soldier I wrote about learning about what really matters.
Parades, Memories of a Fallen Soldier
Maybe it’s the metric ton of candy thrown from parade floats, the sound of a marching band approaching, the sight of patriotic pinwheels against a blue sky but I love a good parade.…[click HERE to read more]