Just got back from watching fireworks at Thurman Field in Modesto. This is the first time in a long time that I’ve gone to watch a big fireworks display. Over the years, I’ve been fortunate to watch fireworks displays in San Jose, San Francisco, San Diego and even Fort Collins, Colorado where we were entertained in a park by the local symphony orchestra that culminated with the 1812 Overture, complete with cannon going off just as the fireworks started. THAT was a memorable show!
For the past ten years, though, we’ve bought fireworks and lit them up in front of my brother-in-law’s house for our kids. My sister and BIL have a house in a cul-de-sac and for several years we’ve gathered with neighbors and had our own Independence Day extraveganzas out on the street in front of the houses. Nothing like having a bunch of legal explosives to make the male cousins come together and try to outdo each other in wild and crazy pyrotechnics.
With the kids now grown (Mandy is 24 this year!) and moved away and only one grand niece (Kyla, who’s 5) to light fireworks for, we decided to go see a BIG fireworks display. You see, the fireworks that we are able to buy where we live don’t allow for any fireworks that can fly up into the sky and explode. Everything has to explode on the ground. Now some of the fireworks that we are able to buy are fun to watch, but even with all the color and noise, they’re still pretty tame. We wanted to see the big stuff, you know, the rockets red glare, bombs bursting in air kind of fireworks, so we packed our lawn chairs and a picnic basket and off we went to watch the fireworks.
My sis and BIL have a membership at the SOS Club in Modesto. That stands for Sportsmen of Stanislaus and the club has a very nice pool and picnic area and is located right next to the stadium from where the fireworks are lit. We went early enough to enjoy the pool and a nice hot dog/hamburger dinner courtesy of the snack bar. We brought our own wine and additional snacks and settled in for the afternoon leading up the the light show. The club also has a nice baseball field where we were able to go and set up our chairs as the day wore on to evening and the start of the light show drew closer.
To while away the time, I brought along a book I had just recently gotten for my birthday, titled “Reading Lolita in Tehran”, by Azar Nafisi. I’d never heard of the book, nor the author, but was intrigued by the title and the picture of two muslim women, scarved heads together looking down as if they were reading a book. After reading the cover and briefly scanning the introduction, I decided to get it. Based on the cover, it is the memoir of a former professor at a Tehran university who for two years, following the Islamic Revolution in Iran, met with a small group of committed and bright students to discuss classic literature, literature forbidden by the new totalitarian regime.
I also brought along for the day, my small mp3 player with devotional songs and music to listen to as I read. I settled down to read a bit, but didn’t get very far before I was confronted with the irony of the moment. Here I was, sitting in the open in a park, in jeans and t-shirt, sipping wine, listening to children laughing and people talking, reading a book about women who are required to wear robes and scarves to cover their bodies when in public, who were forbidden to socialize and these few women were coming together to read and discuss forbidden literature, literature by Nabokov, James, Austen. They had to do so in secret, away from the public, away from those who, if they were aware of such goings on, would punish these women severely. I almost began crying. I had to stop for a brief time and thank God for this freedom I had.
I had to embrace the moment, take it in and look around me. I wanted to remember the time and place and the smells and sounds. They were special to me, a reminder of the Grace that has been given to me and to so many around me. I thought of my two nephews, the marines. I thought of all those who are away from home serving, fighting, dying for this freedom I enjoy.
I then thought of the many women, like the women of this book, who live lives of imprisonment, bondage, oppression. I thought of them and also said a prayer for them, the women I hope to meet someday myself, offering some respite and hope from that bondage. Oh, that I am able to convey that hope, that’s my prayer. Please let me be able.
It finally got too dark to read and the fireworks show started shortly thereafter. My great niece sat in my lap and we oohed and ahhed at the spectacular display. We cheered at the awesome finale!
Happy Independence Day, America!
All Things Elda 