If I could dedicate a holiday to a family member, I would dedicate the Fourth of July to both my Dad and my Brother. My Dad passed away sixteen years ago in January. He had been a veteran of the Korean War even though he had never been deployed. Dad loved Fourth of July. Almost every year we went to the local parade in Pepperell.
My Brother, who I have not seen in a while, is a Navy Veteran. He too was patriotic.
Cookouts and Fireworks are this weekend’s themes. My children are grown, and the puppies don’t quite enjoy the Fireworks. Seems the sound hurts their ears. I’ve yet to find hearing protection for dogs.
An area town set off their fireworks last night. Both dogs were set to barking up a storm in response. It wasn’t until we took them outdoors to show them that they couldn’t see the show from the house, before they calmed down. When I lit a sparkler, Keelaa looked on only to become bored by the thing within a few minutes.
They are looking forward to the food, like most dogs. Hot dogs, hamburgers, and potato salad.
Knowing something that is about to happen can be sort of freaky. But what if you did this all the time? Like when Melvin drove that old truck of his out across the pasture. He didn’t think anything of it. He’d done it time and time again to pick up the hay in the field. On this day, he had to hurry. A storm was brewing, the winds were picking up fast. Last thing he wanted was the hay to get wet.
A crack of thunder sounded off in the distance. He was sure he had enough time. Three more rows of bales and he’d be done. Just when he tossed the last one in the back, another crack sounded. This time it was much closer.
The frogs were out. An odd night for them to litter the field. They squished under the tires of the truck while he drove down the rutted dirt road. A flash of light lit up the dark sky. Black clouds billowed overhead. Melvin had that feeling again. Like he’d been here, done this. He slammed on the breaks for no apparent reason, or so he thought.
Twenty feet in front of him, a bolt of lightning struck a tree, snapping it in two. Had he not stopped when he did, he and his ugly red dented truck would have been flatter than a junk that’s been in a car crusher. He may have lost a day in his life by knowing his future, but did he actually lose a life? Instead, he merely exchanged one day for another.
By the way, the hay did get wet. But that story is for another day.