Passing the torch

I have been shooting fireworks since I was a small kid.  Part of growing older is recognizing some of the foolish things you did in your youth.  Lighting M-80s and Cherry Bombs in your hand before throwing them into the air ranks at the top of my stupidity scale.  Nevertheless, I continued shooting fireworks all my life, though I became very careful and more safety conscious.  

During our years in Donalsonville, we often would have a big fireworks display with my brother, Ernest, and his family.  Although the city had an ordinance against fireworks in the city limits, we shot them from my brother’s yard.  The police often sat at the four-way stop near our house, knowing the neighbors were enjoying the show as much as they were.

Later, the fireworks moved to Compass Lake where we launched them from the dock.  About the same time, our brand new Chaparral boat made its debut only to have an ember from the fireworks land in the floor and burn a hole in the new carpet.  The boat was put in the boat house every year after that.

Last year, I wrote about my daughter, Elizabeth, with her new shirt declaring her as the “Fireworks Director”.  The sub-title on the shirt was “If I run, you run”.  Though I wrote about the changing of the guard last year, I really did not give up my role.  We continued to share the duty, each armed with multiple fire starters.  

This year, I found myself recuperating following total hip replacement.  One of the drawbacks to such a procedure is you cannot bend over to do things like ignite fireworks.  You also cannot run very fast should the need arise.  It was clearly time for me to truly pass the torch.

I found myself sitting near the shore in a chair watching the fireworks erupt from our dock and all around the lake.  Elizabeth and her husband, Grant, did a wonderful job and I have to admit that I enjoyed simply sitting back and enjoying the show.  Everyone, but me, pitched in and cleaned up the dock before going to bed.

Holidays have always been a time of fun and work for me.  At the lake I was always cooking ribs, making ice cream, filling up gas cans, pulling people with the boat, and running errands.  Not so much this year.  On doctor’s orders, I could not even get in the water despite the very humid, hot weather.

I found that the steaks, which I did not cook, were better than usual.  I hardly lifted a finger, except to make the ice cream.  Everyone did their part and in some ways, I felt a bit lost.  I was not used to everyone else doing all the work.

We headed home on Sunday after the 4th of July and on Tuesday received a call from our housekeeper that one of the freezers was out.   While they cleaned out the defrosted food, I did not know what the problem was.  With 16 people coming down for “Christmas in July” this week, I found myself headed back to the lake after just two days at home.

Thankfully, the problem was just a tripped breaker.  A bit tired, I was sitting in my recliner about to watch the evening news.  I was thinking of all the things that needed fixing and how I was unable to address almost any of them.  I needed to move some light fixtures in the boat house where sparrows had unexpectedly taken up roost, producing copious amounts of bird poop directly onto the boat and jet ski.

The lights on the walkway out to the dock had gone dark halfway out.  It was probably an easy fix, but I was banned from the lake due to my surgery and could not get under the dock to repair the problem.  The water pipe out to the dock was also broken and I had no one to call to repair it.  

I was honestly feeling a little sad for myself, focused on all the things I needed to do but was unable to tackle.  It was about that time that I heard a drip, drip, drip onto the leather couch in the den coming from an expanding bubble in the ceiling.  It was 15 minutes after 5 p.m. on a Friday afternoon, the witching hour for finding any help in a rural area.

I reached out to the air conditioning repair company, with little hope of hearing from anyone.  I received a call back from a technician just leaving the office in Marianna.  He turned around and in less than an hour had cleaned all our drain lines and made all the necessary repairs.

The next morning, a Saturday at 9 a.m., the electrician showed up and put new breakers in for the freezers.  He moved the bird poop lights to another position, repaired the lights on the walkway to the dock and even got in the water and repaired the plumbing leak on the dock.

My self-pity disappeared and, in its place, I found a new awareness that I was not washed up yet.  The growing list of things needing work disappeared in less than 24 hours and I was the only family person there.  I am aware that the guard has probably changed, and the torch indeed passed, but I was elated to know that I tackled the list on my own and was successful in completing the tasks.

There is a new spring in my step and my cane is now permanently in the corner.  Before long, you will find me in the water with everyone else, just where I belong.

o0o

Dan Ponder can be reached at [email protected]