This is a hard topic because hubby and I have shared so many great holidays, and all of them special. But for this blog post I go back to childhood. My dad was in the Navy and was often gone for holidays (birthdays, anniversaries, school events… You military families know what I mean.), but when he was at home for the Fourth of July, we always made a big celebration of it.
When we first moved to Virginia, we lived in Virginia Beach. For the Fourth, we would pack a picnic and head for the ocean, either at Virginia Beach proper or the beach at Dam Neck, where Dad was stationed the first two
years we were there. We spent hours sunbathing, crashing through the surf, and laughing with friends or talking. Later, burned and sleepy from the sun and fresh air, we drove home to shower and change clothes and nap a spell. But later that afternoon, after a seafood dinner at our favorite local spot (Hurd’s, which I think is gone now) we headed for Norfolk and Ocean View amusement park. Not that I ever rode it, but they had a huge wooden roller coaster. I got on lots of other rides, though, and we walked around to see all the sights and hear all the sounds. We ate cotton candy and drank Coke, and generally 
gorged ourselves on the celebration of our independence. After dark, fireworks lit the sky over the bay and we Oooed and Ahhhhed over the burst of lights. Finally, we made our way through the crowd to the car and drove home. Lucky me—I was able to sleep in the next day!
Jack and I still stay up to watch the fireworks, and we’re no less appreciative of the day and its significance than we were as kids. But memories of those childhood days splashing carefree through the ocean waves, the taste of spun sugar melting on the tongue, and the feeling of safety and love 
surrounding me from my parents as we walked through that amusement park, still burst through me like those rockets that filled the air over the water with light and sound.
Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.
Dee
Naval Maneuvers When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!
My dad was military, too. We always looked forward to him coming home, even if we never knew when he’d be coming home.
Never knowing when was hard! I met someone a couple of years ago whjo had been stationed in Norfolk and I said, “If I had a nickel for the number of times I’ve been to the Des-Sub piers to say ‘Hi’ or ‘Bye’…” He laughed. Military families put up with a lot!!! Thanks for your comment!