Celebrating the 4th of July was the most stress-free holiday of the year. Even the bitter memory - dismally losing a race I thought was a lock to win 'cause of my PF Flyer keds - has its sweet side - spotting Peter in the crowd lining the race route & veering away from the finish line to run straight into his brotherly arms. (He was possibly mortified, although every young lady who was it would have gone. "Ahhhhhhh... What a good big brother.")
Mom always knocked herself out on the picnic & Dad even took the whole day off (well, usually, and with one HUGE exception). Through the years, Peter & his family joined us, Mike & Kerry shared out picnic blanket, John went to several when Mom was still up for it.
For one day, we were the family I longed for all the other 364. Heaven!
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