Wow, what a week.

Wow, what a week.

Wow, what a week! Unlike much of the country, for the past week, I’ve had mild weather, blue skies, and a slight breeze to blow away the humidity. This is my kind of summer at home. I feel bad for those dealing with the brutality of Mother Nature. I’ll take it, knowing things could be so much worse. The only thing that could make it better… warm sand and ocean breezes. Sometimes I dislike living so far away from the coast.

Yesterday, our country celebrated the 249th birthday of its birth. Typically, most people celebrate with fireworks exploding high in the sky, family gatherings, food, and drink. That’s how I grew up.

I love the various shapes and colors the fireworks make in the darkened sky. I love to smell the gunpowder wafting over the area, and the bursts of air pressure slamming my chest, threatening to knock me over. Yes, I love fireworks.

Yet, with all this, I recognize so many others do not. So many of us are homeless, go hungry every day, or suffer from PTSD, which the exploding lights in the skies return them to a not so enjoyable day on a battlefield or mass attack in the streets of our towns and cities.

I ask that you keep these individuals in your hearts and prayers. And if you have an opportunity to do something for someone in need, please do so. A little compassion can go a long way to someone in need, even if they tell you, ‘No thank you. I’m good.’

I hope you have a safe and enjoyable holiday celebrating the birth of our country.

I wonder what we’ll all be doing on the 250th anniversary of its birth. Happy Independence Day.