As we were driving home from Pops' Father's Day dinner, I saw a lonely firefly out in a field. I think that's the first firefly I've seen in...well, I don't recall the last time a saw a firefly.
When I was a little girl, my friend Susan and I would run around the front yard, chasing lightening bugs like CRAZY! Each summer evening, right around dusk, the air came to life with a magical display of twinkles from the fireflies & the comforting buzzing from the Cicadas. Susan & I each had a jar, hers a Bama jelly jar, mine a Miracle Whip one. We had several different firefly games, but the most fun was "Filler Up". The names says it all...HEY! We were 10! What do you expect? Some fancy play on words? LOL!! And we used to tie thread around the bellies of the Cicadas & let them fly around with us.
Riding home tonight, seeing that one lone lightening bug, I reminisced with David, reviving my victories of "Filler Up". He too used to tie string on Cicadas as a boy in short pants. We talked and laughed about our youthful antics, chasing the then abundant fireflies, sneaking sips of warm water from the garden hose, staying out until the street lights came on.
As we pulled into our driveway, following the kids into the house, a small sense of sadness came over me. I miss the innocence of childhood. Not having to worry about anything other than will I get in trouble for the grass stains on my shorts. Running wildly down the sidewalk with Susan, racing to reach the corner before she did. Spinning with my arms wide open until I felt sick & swimmy-headed. And much like the firefly, so has my innocence faded away.
But, as I close the door, turn toward my husband and wish him a Happy Father's Day (for about the millionth time), I realize how wonder my life is. And that the light of the firefly burns bright in the love for my family.
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