A Midlife Guide to Surviving and Thriving on the 4th of July

Oh yay! The 4th of July. Fireworks, hot dogs, burgers, patriotic playlists, and the sudden realization that we are now the “watch-from-the-porch” generation. Or maybe in a comfy chair with adequate lumbar support at the park. And don’t forget the bug spray.

Let’s face it—when we were younger, we were the fireworks. We didn’t give a care if the dog was having a nervous breakdown. We could party all night, fire up the grill, sleep in a tent, and eat potato salad that had been sitting in the sun for hours without so much as a Tums. Now? I bring my own antacids and sit close to the bathroom and that is after a single s’more. And I worry that I might be the one having a nervous breakdown from the fireworks and small talk.

The Fireworks Are in My Joints

Nothing says “freedom” quite like standing up and hearing your knees snap, crackle, and pop like a box of vintage sparklers. These days, I’m more likely to throw out my back waving the said sparkler or moving suddenly from a loud “kaboom”. But that doesn’t stop me from gently waving a flag with one hand, while the other is holding an ice pack.

The fireworks in our town start right about the time I’d normally be winding down with a good book and a cup of tea that promotes “digestive harmony.” But do I stay up? You bet I do. I put on my red, white, and blue and pretend I’m still wild and free. I just do it with orthopedic sandals and a snack bag of low-sodium nuts.

And then wonder how I will get out of my precarious parking spot and drive home after dark. And how will I sleep after staying up so late? And how will I wind down with the ringing in my ears?

Barbecue?

Back in the day, I was the grill master. Now I need a nap after setting out the condiments. I still make a mean potato salad, though—I just have to write “contains onions” in bold letters for my friends with acid reflux, food allergies, or “that thing we all caught after a drinking the water”.

Festive Fashion Adjustments

Remember when we used to rock our flag tank tops and denim cutoffs? We were the cool kids, maybe even wearing a pair of “go-go” boots. Now I’m rocking moisture-wicking fabric and a sunhat the size of a beach umbrella. I’ve got more SPF than patriotism and a personal fan that hangs around my neck like a tiny, buzzing declaration of independence.

The patriotic t-shirt I bought in 1997, stuck at the back of the drawer still sort of fits if I don’t breathe too deeply. I found a pair of wrap-around sunglasses that I can wear over my glasses at Target. My elastic waistband can help me to accommodate the potato salad, hotdogs, burgers, chips, cherry pie and Aunt Mildred’s Jello surprise.

Sparkling Water Is My Drink of Choice

Don’t get me wrong, I can still party. I just do it with a LaCroix and some ibuprofen.

So this 4th of July, celebrate however you can:

• Wave the flag.
• Rock those compression socks.
• Toast to freedom with your favorite probiotic beverage.

Still there is something so magical about this day. Whether you are waving a sparkler, launching a bottle rocket or holding a flag, manning the grill or standing in the air conditioning supervising, it’s a chance to celebrate being free, being loud and being exactly who we have earned the right to be. Because aging may not be for the weak—but it sure makes for a great view of the fireworks from a reclining lawn chair. I just have to hope that there will be someone to help me out of it when the show is over.