Fourth of July

When you are losing your independence

This is a Fourth of July story before COVID.

The last holiday we celebrated was Father’s Day and boy, it would be impossible to beat that. Holidays are already loaded most of the time, but now there is even more added pressure.

What if this is the last (fill in the blank) that Tim (my husband) has where he is feeling well? That was the inspiration behind flying Emily, our daughter, here for Father’s Day.

Now it is the 4th of July.

We decided to go to spend the day with one of Tim’s family members at their cottage. It’s a lovely place about a mile from the lake. We usually walk down to the beach to watch the fireworks because there is little or no parking there.

Tim and I discussed it at length and decided that in spite of the parking annoyance, we should not walk the mile there and back.

His strength comes and goes and is often unpredictable.

We knew his family would not want to drive to the waterfront, so we made our pact before we got there.

The weather was lovely. Things were great until it was time to go to the beach. Tim caved to the pressure to walk rather than drive.

I got the clear impression that my concern was not welcomed by Tim’s family. It was like I was once again just trying to boss Tim around.

It ticked me off because they had spent comparatively little time with us and didn’t understand Tim’s physical limitations.

Of course, Tim wanted to save face with everyone and not admit that his abilities were compromised. Things were extremely tense between Tim and me. I went to the lakeside so Frankie, our son, could swim.

I just cried while I stood there alone.

What if we don’t ever get a do-over? What if we have spent our last 4th of July together fighting?

On the way home, one of Tim’s family members had too much to drink and was fighting with his wife and daughter. By the time the mile walk home was completed, there were a couple of people crying.

We tried to interrupt the fighting to say goodbye but we couldn’t even break in.

We got in the car and Frankie asked what the heck was going on? Tim fumbled an answer about how sometimes people get upset and don’t behave very well.

We ended up spending an entire counseling session processing this event. Tim and Scott (our therapist) concluded that Tim kind of gets out of sorts sometimes when he’s around his family.

The fighting brings back tough memories and also reminds him of where his own temper can take him if he doesn’t work hard at controlling it.

We were sad, but are hoping that we get a chance next year to have a more positive and happy 4th of July celebration together. Maybe we can even rival Father’s Day!

Post Script: That was indeed our last Fourth of July.

You don’t get do-overs sometimes.

Sadly, ten years later, I have no relationship with Tim’s relatives. Actually, it is not so sad for me, but it is for my son.

He was eight when his dad died.

He could have used an uncle or two as he was growing up.

That’s the bigger tragedy.