The Parade Has Passed Me By.

Julie used to be the initiator, then it was me, then we tried to do it together. However, those days are now over. What was once so important has become unimportant. I guess that is the way life is.

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3:45 AM I wake up and stumble to the bathroom and dress, I groan. I open the bedroom door to head downstairs, and I’m greeted by Mercury, the cat. She looks up at me, gives me a quick meow, and proceeds to scamper down the stairs. Her friendly welcome is really a ploy to get her morning treat. She succeeds.

After a check of social media, I’m out the door and walking to Starbucks for my 3.5-mile morning walk. It’s Memorial Day and the early morning is peaceful due to the lack of work traffic. As I get closer to downtown Naperville, I become aware of the hidden activity there. A police car blocks an intersection here, cone barriers are placed there. The city workers have been busy during the early morning. The city workers are getting ready.

It is now 5:30 AM and I’m walking down Jackson Avenue on the side of Nichols Library. The sidewalks on both sides of the street are lined with empty lawn chairs of every design and color. Interspersed between them are old blankets and sheets that claim other patches of sidewalk and curb. The residents of Naperville are securing their spots for the annual Memorial Day parade that starts at 11:30 AM. If you live in Naperville, you know that it is imperative to claim your viewing space early or risk being relegated to standing at the back of the sidewalk.

The Naperville Memorial Day parade is an enjoyable event, and likely similar to thousands of other celebrations that are simultaneously occurring across the country. Some watchers come to enjoy the spectacle. However, most attend to be supportive of someone who they know who is marching.

When I was active in the YMCA Adventure Guides (then called Indian Princesses) program with my two young daughters, we often marched in Naperville parades. When my kids started in middle school, they continued to march via their school’s bands.

In the beginning, Julie would be the one to get up very early to set up our bag chairs at the edge of the sidewalk. As the years went by I became the chair placer. Then over time, we both would go to mark our parade viewing territory.

Part of our attendance was due to the holiday celebration, but the primary reason for showing up was the excitement of glimpsing our kids when they proudly passed us playing some popular march. At the instant of their appearance, we would stand, clap and scream their names. Although they claimed embarrassment by our uncouth actions, they also seemed pleased with their moment of recognition and stardom.

My kids are in now college and beyond and their Memorial Day mornings are spent sleeping in rather than marching; with their change in behavior has come ours. The local parades that had been so important to us in the past have become unimportant.

When I was a young child, one of my absolute favorite activities was watching Saturday morning cartoons. Then it became unimportant. As a teen, my collection of LPs were played until their vinyl was so worn that the records almost became transparent; now their music is just a trigger for nostalgic memories. I can recall a desire to buy a bigger house, something that I absolutely would not want currently. I can remember taking on professional positions and responsibilities to advance my career; now, I celebrate my abundance of unstructured retirement time.

So many aspects of my life that seemed irreplaceable became replaced by other things, which in turn were changed out for still others. Life is not a static photograph; instead, it is a dynamic movie that twists and turns throughout time. It is a river that carries you down a journey.

Some people fixate on a part of their past and are forever trying to relive or return to that time. The middle-aged man who recalls his glory days in the military, or the former cheerleader who wishes to return to her popular past. Two examples of countless more.

There are also the “if only” people. These folks ruminate over a past misstep. “If only I would have married my high school sweetheart.” “If only I would have finished my college degree.” “If only…”.

Dear reader, we are precisely where we should be on our life journey. However, if we want to be somewhere else, we need paddle ourselves in that direction. We can enjoy our memories from our past successes, and we can learn from our past mistakes. However, to expend large amounts of time or energy in fruitless activity is a waste of both.

Last night my family and I streamed the movie “The Commuter,” a terrible movie. We all laughed at the lousy script and ridiculous premise. The experience was akin to a bunch of friends sharing a fun evening together. I smile when I remember their parade days, but I would never trade this present to return to the past.

As a kid, I didn’t give up Saturday morning cartoons, I traded that time for something else. I didn’t attend a parade on Memorial Day, but I connected with my now adult kids in a way that was just as enjoyable.

To live in the past prevents me from celebrating my present. Each day is precious and is never to be repeated. Together, Let’s look at what we have instead of what we don’t have. In reality, the parade didn’t pass me by, I was the one who moved on.

Julie securing a viewing spot from a parade 10 years ago.
My daughter as a proud flag bearer from her junior high days.
Empty chairs securing a spot for 2019 parade attendees.

2 thoughts on “The Parade Has Passed Me By.”

  1. We’ve also been there, done that. Now we drive to the fireworks and watch from our car. The traffic and the crowds at many events loses its appeal the older we get and we choose a different venue to enjoy special occasions.

  2. Well said. I wonder how many people can relate to your thoughts and see them as the truth. There are plenty I would speculate that would find your contemplation as alien and state ” why would even ever think about that” We were at a story book wedding the other day and when I reflect on the conversations, I realize that none of them were genuine or questioning. Even when the liquor ran deep, the conversations were just tiring and trite. We need places for deeper probes and observations. The fourth of July parade is not one of them.

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