knee-high by 4th of July

02Jul09

There is a saying that I doubt is local to my area, but I have no idea who to attribute it to other than maybe my dad and grandpa. It’s about the fields, and more specifically the corn in them: “Knee-high by Fourth of July.” If the corn reaches this height in this timeframe, supposedly it will be a good year for the crops.

Well, this year should be an AMAZING one, because the corn this year is already up nearly to my hips. Not that my hips are of an impressive height or anything, but still. The corn, it is tall, ya’ll! Every day when I wake it seems that it must have sprung up another inch or more.

I’ve got corn waiting in the fridge for this weekend, and I cannot wait to make it. It is a Fourth of July must in our house, as is strawberry pie (which I’ve been making obsessively for weeks now anyway, but who’s counting?)

The sweet corn in our (family, Dad, I’m still speaking your ownership) garden is growing rapidly, and I cannot wait to be able to go and pick ears for dinner.

That actually sounds kind of disgusting, but you know what I mean. I think.

:::

We have no plans for this weekend. NO PLANS. It feels really good to have NO PLANS. Other than swimming. And sun. And being outside. We have things we’d like to do, but I think that for the most part we’ll just mosey on through this long weekend, enjoying each other. Oh, and of course enjoying some fireworks. I love me some fireworks.

:::

I’ve been trying, but I can’t particularly remember what we did last 4th of July. I think that we stayed home and cooked out; I remember being so excited to dress Maddie up in her patriotic gear. I wanted to go to the fireworks, but that plan was quickly abandoned on the grounds of insanity. A five-month old has really no business in a crowd of thousands. Luckily, we can see them from our house, just over the trees.

I cannot clearly remember this time, and that frightens me a little. It’s scary how quickly it all falls away, fades into the past, and then suddenly I’m reading the tags and captions for my pictures, wondering what the hell we did a year ago and who is that baby who is clearly struggling to sit up? Who would topple over like a sack of potatoes if left unassisted too long?

And ohmygoodness look at those arms… I hadn’t realized, not really, but all her chubby little rolls of goodness are disappearing.

We watched the Tigers, I remember that – I believe that we all took a nap during that game.

And though I don’t remember, the evidence beneath my eyes suggests that none of us were sleeping all that well at this point.

Last July, I’d probably have laughed at you if you even suggested that these memories would fade. Now instead I hold that knowledge as my own and I take pictures, more pictures than we could ever possibly want or need or print, and I write and write and take notes and jot things in her baby book. I write on the backs of photos and on church bulletins: “You made the couple behind us laugh and laugh through this whole service.” I stow it all away in her memory box and someday… what? It all goes so fast, it’s true. Maybe someday she’ll read this all, see it all and laugh at me for keeping so much, for tracking so much, for sappily recording every move.

Or maybe she’ll see it for what it really is: the expression of all the things I’m afraid I’ll never be able to say just right, never be able to convey.

:::

Lastly… thank you, Laura.

This Fourth of July marks the first day that you are an active part of an exclusive brother- and sisterhood, one that fights for freedom and independence for all whether they deserve it or appreciate it or even recognize your sacrifice.

Thank you for protecting us. Thank you for watching over us. Thank you for leaving everything you knew to take up a life that’s simply not about you. Thank you for your strength, your courage, your faith. Because of you and the thousands upon thousands who serve with you and who have gone before you, I sleep safely each night. I lay my baby girl, your niece, in her crib sound in the knowledge that I will find her safe in the morning. I love you, and I’m so proud of you.

Thank you, Laura. Thank you too to all those currently serving, to those who have served, and those who have given their lives in support of what makes this country great.

Happy Fourth of July!

Filed under: Madeline, family, me, military, parenting   |  7 Comments
Tags: corn on the cob, fireworks, Fourth of July, freedom, independence, parenting, strawberry pie, USAF