Freedom to Celebrate

July is a celebratory month. It started off with a big bang as our nation celebrated its 250th birthday. 

There were all kinds of ways to participate and commemorate the day. Some people chose to gather for family picnics, march in a parade or stand on the side lines and wave. 

Early in the day, my husband and I chose to drive to one of our favorite beaches. We claimed some space in the sand with our chairs and cooler and then we were surprised. 

A helicopter flew close to the shoreline, displaying a very large American flag. We watched, we waved and stood for a moment. With those in the air, we celebrated the stars and stripes that represent our nation. 

July is also the month I recognize and remember our oldest and youngest sons’ wedding anniversaries. I write and mail them a card, telling them how proud I am of  the commitment they’ve made to their wife, to their marriage and to their family. 

Then there are the birthdays to celebrate in July. My little brother and I share the same birthday on July 20. 

When I was three, Mom sat me down on the couch and showed me a bundle wrapped up in a blanket that made a lot of noise. “This is your baby brother,” she said. “He was born on your birthday.” 

The information was too much for me to understand. This pink faced, toothless and hairless thing was a little brother, born on my birthday? I wondered if he was somehow my twin since only twins shared the same birthday. 

After Mom carefully explained this phenomenon of my little brother being born on my birthday, and yet we were not twins, I mostly ignored him until my next birthday. 

Then it dawned on me, my birthday was no longer just my birthday. It was now divided between him and me. 

My cake was no longer just mine, but ours. I was no longer the solitary person in my birthday picture. Now he was there too. “Happy birthday to Terese,” became, “Happy birthday to Terese and Mark.” We even had to blow out our candles in unison. 

I accepted my fate with courage and kindness only because that was the unspoken, but understood rule in our house. 

My brother and I now live miles apart. We don’t have to share our birthday cake, birthday party or the birthday song. We celebrate separately, in our own ways and can’t help but to remember each other’s birthday. 

Why Bother? 

Why bother celebrating our freedom to celebrate? Whether we participate in a parade, gather friends for a picnic, send birthday or anniversary cards or fly a very large flag from a helicopter, there is always a reason to celebrate something. Choose your occasion and then kick up your heels, whoop it up and honor the occasion.