I’m shaking as I type, and I haven’t even had my coffee. For the first time in fourteen years, I didn’t buy my sons the matching Old Navy 4th of July T-shirts.
And it’s hitting harder than I expected. I know. They’re T-shirts. Basic, silly T-shirts. Except they were never basic to me. They were the one thing that stayed consistent, no matter how much our 4th of July changed.
And it turns out, there are several other changes today I didn’t plan for…so yeah, I’m wishing I had the shirts. And yeah, I’m wishing change wasn’t happening…again. July 4, 2023 was Change 1.0. The experienced moms told me it would be okay. There would be new memories. They were right. And also, here I am. Change 2.0 is happening today, and once again, I’m feeling every bit of it. I feel it in my bones. Literally.
I’m jittery. I’m anxious. My body knows something is changing even as my rational brain keeps saying, “Sheila, not everything is changing. At least ALL your boys are here, together. That wasn’t even the plan a few days ago!” But still…. The back story. My boys and I used to go to Stone Harbor Beach every July 4th week. For years. First as a family of six, with my ex-husband. Then one year with him even though we were separated.
I can laugh now. We must have each had our own internal fireworks. We came home, went to couples therapy and promptly decided, yep, divorce is the right thing to do. Then I went to the beach with just my boys, then with my fiancé and his kids.
And then, in 2023, it stopped. My boys had jobs. The week was no longer an option. A three-day weekend didn’t always happen. It was heart-wrenching. I love traditions. I love the stability they offer in a world full of chaos. The knowing. The having something to look forward to. The ability to take the same picture year after year and pretend, for one second, that nothing is changing as fast as it actually is. (Did I mention I’m sentimental too?!) I did my best to make new traditions at home in NJ.
I mean, after all, we still had the annual Old Navy 4th of July shirts, right? At least I had the picture and the bickering to go with it?! Everything turned out okay. We were together. Laughing. Eating hot dogs. Doing sparklers. Fireworks in the local park didn’t compare to those over the ocean—and basically overhead—but I survived. It wasn’t the end of the world like I imagined. Anxiety sure can create the worst-case scenario. Then last year, a three-day weekend aligned and we made it back to Stone Harbor.
Oh, how my heart filled. And my pocket emptied! This year, another three-day weekend presented itself. So did my rational self. I decided it wasn’t worth the price. The boys had outgrown the hotel pool since we have one now. And since they are six feet tall, the small beds also weren’t working so well.
So we are home, again. I thought I was okay with that. We’d been home before. And Change 1.0 wasn’t actually so horrific.
But then I realized: for the first time in fourteen years, I hadn’t bought the shirts. A small detail. A massive impact. That is the thing about traditions. To everyone else, it can look like a shirt, a meal, a picture or a silly little ritual. –> But sometimes that tiny thing is what holds every memory over the years together; holds everyone together, BRINGS everyone together. At first, I was okay. I was even proud of myself for all the “self-growth” of being able to just roll with it.
I may or may not have high-fived myself. Then yesterday some conversations started popping up in the house and my pride turned into a little bit of panic. I had a vision for tonight: a family bbq like always, my boys and our picture. Apparently, my boys had their own vision: friends, more friends and a few people I haven’t met yet. Times have changed. The tide has changed. As it should. I know it will change again.
As tides do. But today? Right now? It’s a hard adjustment. And I know it will be okay. I really do. But knowing it will be okay doesn’t mean it feels okay right now. Right now? It feels blech.
And I need to let it feel blech for a minute so it doesn’t follow me into the fun later today. I’m just wishing I had the shirts to at least hold onto….one thing to bring me back to the past, ya know? And honestly, I don’t want to share the day I pictured as ours, with others. I could say no. I’ve been practicing that more and more. But my heart also wants to say yes. It wants to see my boys happy just as much as it wants to hold onto the version of today that would make me happy.
And if that ain’t motherhood. So I said yes. Seeing them happy will make me happy. Just in a different way than I planned. I will still get a picture before everyone arrives. Maybe I’ll make them hold up paper that says “Red Old Navy Shirt 2026” or “Blue Old Navy Shirt 2026.” There will probably be eye rolls. There will definitely be bickering.
But there will also be laughter. It will be a different memory…and it will still count. And actually, I think it will probably be a better, funnier picture.
Now that I think of it, I’m scared about what my boys will write on their pieces of paper. Maybe I should just find colored paper to give them and cut it out in the shape of a t-shirt?!
Today is definitely not gonna go as envisioned. No beach. No t-shirts. A little extra heavy on some emotions today. And also. Extra people. Which will bring extra laughter, extra joy and all that jazz. Both/And. Gray/Orange. Sending warmth to you today, especially if something is different today, a tradition is missing, maybe someone you love. I get it. I’m right there with ya.
xoxo, Sheila
🧡 The Orange Rhino
