Fourth of Julonely

This is how a family barbecue is supposed to be. You should be able to smell what's cooking on the grill and scoop your sides from different relatives Tupperware. Kids should be running around and getting dirty. Fireworks should be in person light up the sky around you. Not some catered fancy party with real plates and watching fireworks on television. Well the birds that are singing, and the creek rushing and the flies buzzing around tell me that I am where I am supposed to be. The sun is beaming down, but a cloud looks to be on its way to cover it. I don't think I've ever heard how close the creek is, I mean I've walked there plenty of times with my uncles to go fishing, each of us hoping that we will catch something for bragging rights until the next year. Music, laughter, amplified conversations and all the other sounds my family and our friends would make when we gathered here together usually fill this space. I might just sit on this picnic table for a minute and soak it in. It's not like I've got a bunch of hungry and drunk people waiting to eat or need to set up decorations to emphasize the spirit of the day. I can do things my way this year. I can organize the tables how I like this year. Because why put the food table next to the trash cans? It should be by the grill so that it is more convenient when replenishing, not having to walk from one side to the other, risking a distraction that would cause you to delay getting there or getting back. I see now just how big the pavilion is with no one else in it. The games can go on the table nearest to the trash can, that way you can throw the packaging directly in the trash. So, when a sudden wind comes through, we aren’t scattering to catch paper and plastic from the sky. Hotdogs will be cooked with the perfect portion of burnt to well done ratio, burgers will be juicy, and I've made one batch of sauce for the ribs, spicy. I don’t have any sides. I’ve never made potato salad, or pasta salad or macaroni salad. It takes a special skill to handle the noodle and sauce ratios perfectly. Had I thought about it I could have brought baked beans or a fruit salad. I’ve never been in charge of anything except showing up honestly and I am starting to see why. There is usually a committee for everything, food, decorations, activities and sometimes subcommittees for each of those. I forgot decorations. Well I didn't forget, I didn't even think about decorations, never really saw the point for a holiday outdoors. But I sure should've brought a tablecloth. I thought having this pavilion all to myself would mean not sweating through my t-shirt, but with the way the humidity is rising with this storm cloud that looks like it is going to do exactly what the weather man predicted I may end up taking it off while the rain falls. Everything I have to drink will only dehydrate me. The faint wind tells me I should grill before it starts. I forgot foil and a lighter. And plates. And napkins. And condiments. And utensils. And sunscreen. My deep breath pulls in my frustration and realization that I am alone and no one will shout out an idea good or bad that could help me in this moment. One of my uncles would have been able to start the fire, a real smoker always has a lighter. One of my aunts would have been the first one here to claim our spot, spending the morning sweeping, designating areas for food, games and socialize, and thoughtfully hanging streamers and placing patriotic paper centerpieces. Another aunt would've had the foil. And my mother would have brought her homemade apple pie and whatever else anyone requested her to make. I forgot fireworks. One of my cousins would have brought those, everyone loved to gather around and watch as they sparkled and shined in the night. I miss the kids running and squirting each other (often missing) giving those too old to partake an opportunity to receive a cool just-for-the-moment drop on their arm or leg. There are more pavilions here, it would be easy for me to pretend to belong. I could just casually blend in with a group of latecomers. At least I wouldn't be arriving empty handed. The breeze is beginning to be worth its while and I appreciate it. All the games I brought are multiplayer games. My sister with her competitive spirit always organized the games for each like it was the Olympics, bringing along gold, silver and bronze level prizes for the winners. Usually she makes the drunkest relatives compete against each other or with the kids for her own entertainment. Well really all our entertainment since we all laugh along. My shirt is sticking to me. My stomach growled so loud the birds stopped singing. The flies are wearing me down, I've given up swatting them away when they land on me. My food will go bad in this heat if I do not come up with a plan. And then I really will have proven my family right. I can not admit defeat and attend the all-white party taking place in my parent's backyard. New Mayor of the city or not we should still keep tradition (although I am sure they are cooking by now). I can't leave this pavilion, I have a point to prove. So many families have already walked past me silently judging me for taking up an entire pavilion just for myself. The next family that comes by I will invite over, trade them the space for the materials I need. And they'll accept because the weather man's prediction is about to come true. I forgot bug repellent.