It’s funny … what I remember most about almost every July 4th celebration is not the fireworks. This year is no different. What I will remember most from yesterday’s celebration is spending the day with just one other family, the Whitman family. Our children have grown up together. We share the same mental disorder that caused us to have six children, and, quite frankly, we just love them. It was a simple day that started with a Rotary Club Pankcake breakfast, a local parade, and then migrated to swimming at the Bjorkmans’ pool. They weren’t home. It was like we were invading a small private resort. At one point, Rocky asked me to turn around and look at all the kids in the pool. Two families and one big party. The fireworks from the Whitman’s backyard was just the icing on the cake. But it wasn’t the cake. The fireworks almost never are.
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