So tomorrow is the 4th of July — the kick-off of all summer celebrations.

I’ve always been a big fan of the 4th. The fire works and picnics. Red, white and blue as far as the eye can see. Everything seems to shut down in favor of fun and festivities.

However, I’m a bit down this year. My family is big on tradition — Christmas Eve is always as Great Grandma’s (although she is now deceased) with about 85 of our nearest and dearest. Even though our winters can be deadly, we always make the hour-long journey. Christmas Day is at Grandpa’s where the family has been celebrating the same way for the past 30 years. My husband and our friends have a long-standing Christmas dinner together. Each October we all trek to a state park for a long weekend. Good Friday means a 6am wake-up call as DH and I prepare to head out to the Polish market. The last weekend in July is spent at the Level Regatta, regardless of the rising ticket cost and presence of unwanted teens. We have lots of traditions — and I am a stickler about them. To quote a favorite movie of mine, “You don’t monkey with tradition.” But this year everything is screwy.

TRADITIONALLY we spend Independence Day doing a myriad of activities. We start off the morning on the sailboat. My father gets frustrated if we don’t tighten the jib fast enough. My mother gets nervous when the boat tips and becomes frustrated with the whole situation. And someone always loses something overboard. Next we head back to my parent’s for an all-day picnic. My dog stands on the pool deck while my husband soaks him. Said dog inevitably goes on to the patio and shakes his wet fur all over the relatives, who shoot daggers my way. We all eat too much and then complain about the raging sunburns we’ve all acquired.

Then the pieces de resistance — fire works. We load up wagons and coolers and make our way to a local park. We fight for a spot to lay down our numerous blankets and prepare for the light show. The park becomes mobbed, babies are crying, dogs are barking, and someone always has to use the bathroom. We’re tired, burned and a bit cranky. Then we have to wait 45 minutes for the show to actually begin. When all is said and done we make the slow walk home among fellow neighbors.

I’m bumming because this year our sailboat is on its way to Toronto, my parents have to attend a graduation party tomorrow, and my very pregnant sister isn’t up to much walking. My husband and I are scrambling to find some festivities to occupy our 4th. I know we’ll pull something together, but the absence of long-standing traditions is breaking my spirit.

I just like the comfort that comes with family traditions, or the new ones my husband and I have created with friends. I want my children to grow up with those traditions. I want them to have the same warm memories that I cherish. Is your family big on tradition?

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