I Love a Parade

The reason for all holidays is children, don't you think? I mean, if grown-ups were in charge of the world, we'd have half a day off to organize our e-mail addresses and de-bug our gadgetry once every three months and call it good. Without children, we'd never stop to smell the food cook, or listen to the crazy dogs bark, or examine any bugs on the sidewalk. And we'd certainly never have a parade.

I grew up in a little town in Northern Davis County called Centerville. You can't get much more middle-class America than that. Centerville's claim to fame is it's annual 4th of July parade and carnival. I have been going to this parade since I was 6 years old and amazingly look forward to it every year. This parade has it all:

floats,

candy thrown at you from said floats,

clowns,

firetrucks,

horses,

and jets from the Air Force Base that do a flyover every year. My dad and I cry every time the jets go by. One time I asked him why he gets so choked up and he said, "It's just because they're there. They're there to protect us. Just knowing that makes me so grateful for those pilots." I hope our kids feel the same way about us when they grow up. They'll wonder, "Why did mom and dad get up so early on a sleep in day and drive us for 35 minutes to sit in the heat and watch the same parade over and over again every year?" And I hope they answer with, "Because they were there. They cared about us and wanted to make sure we knew what was important." Maybe they'll get choked up and realize that we did things that were purely for them. And they'll remember and be grateful for their parent/pilots, who needed an escape from the drudgery and stress of life and were grateful they had children, because there was an excuse to miss work and watch a parade. Because you get more from a parade than sweaty brows and hoarse voices. You get togetherness, as a family and as a community. And you get the candy.