The Front Porch
Every Fourth of July, after consuming my fair share of apple pie and ice cream, I enjoy setting off fireworks with my children on the hill behind our house. There are golden sparklers and red-white-and-blue rockets mixed in with some more menacing-looking items that go boom — which did an excellent job of scaring the little ones in their younger days. Sky rockets in flight, loud noises, a feeling of some mild danger contained within a curtain of safety forged in partnership with my wife, who still worries about someone’s hand getting blown off… these are the elements of a family ritual that can only be fully appreciated by people who know what the absence of family and protection can feel like. Every Fourth of July we are grateful for one another, and to live in a county where recreational munitions are available for purchase along most roadsides. After trudging down the hill to the bluestone patio that I laid by hand, and which is therefore somewhat uneven, I indulge in a personal …
