Sunday the St. Joseph community had its return of their annual Fourth of July parade. I was so happy to see the parade return as it had been a tradition in my family for years. As kids we would attend the parade and immediately afterward head over to the church bazaar and hit up the fishing pond. There was no bazaar this year, but the parade did not disappoint.
I was immediately transported back to my childhood. It had been years since I attended a parade, but that feeling of anticipation when the first siren blew to indicate the start, came rushing back to me. I found myself giddy with excitement when I was showing my daughter how to run out and grab the candy off the street. She was amazed with how many goodies she came home with. How have I not brought her to a parade before?
While the crowd may not have been as big as it’s been in the past, I was still happy to see the numbers of people who did attend. It gave off a sense of normalcy and much-needed connection to our fellow neighbors. I saw people gathered together showing their love and support for our country. Flags were being waved; soldiers were being remembered, it was a beautiful tribute to those who have fought for our freedom, and we were there for it.
My favorite part of a parade has always been the marching bands. If there was one disappointment throughout the whole event, it’s that there was only one marching band present this year. One thing I wish for parades is that we see more and more marching bands pop up again. Even my daughter was asking how she could become “one of the flag girls?”
I had forgotten how exciting parades are. With every passing act, excitement grew to see who was coming up next. The music made us chair-dance, the dancers made us smile, and I cannot fail to mention the thrill of the old-timey country shootout that took place right in front of our eyes.
The parade may have been slightly shorter this year, and the crowd might not have been quite as large, but the energy and passion were certainly felt. As my daughter and I skipped our way back to the car, sticky fingers and sweaty from the sun, I was reminded of what it meant to be a kid again.