For the past few years, my family has traded town gatherings and 4th of July carnivals for a few days in Maine to watch fireworks on the lake from our dock. It’s peaceful, it’s exciting, and it’s becoming a tradition.
Years ago, my grandparents bought some land on a small island, and over the years, our family built a lake house on the plot. For as long as I can remember, the house has been in progress, and we’ve spent days at a time on Zakelo with limited access to the internet but plenty of access to outdoor exploration. There is a lot of freedom to be had on an island as small as this one, which allowed us to wander off and return for meals each day at a young age.
When I refer to “we” and “us,” it is a reference to myself, my sisters, and my many cousins. Ten years ago - before we all grew up - there could be at least a dozen of us kids on the island at once, which resulted in massive games of tag, annual talent shows, inevitable arguments, swimming until our fingers turned to raisins, and too many s’mores and pancakes to count. Because of the time spent here, a majority of my childhood memories - as well as my close relationships with my cousins - can be attributed to this island.
Now, each year, we celebrate the 4th of July up in Maine. The celebrations are not as red-white-and-blue-traditional as you might see at town fireworks or carnivals, but the consistency of trying to make it to Maine for the 4th of July is tradition for us.
We usually come up on or before July 2nd, so we can kick off our annual celebration with my cousin Toren’s birthday. This year, he is fourteen (happy birthday, again, Toren). Then, we try to find out which night the fireworks are being set off, but usually we don’t figure it out, so we just wait to hear blasts then run down to the dock in the dark.
The house is set up like a hotel of sorts, with each parent owning their own room to squeeze their kids and belongings into. In recent years, the attic has been transformed into a playroom for the kids, reserved for rainy days and buggy nights. The rule is to be outside whenever possible, which leaves a few options for entertainment: swimming, kayaking, or using your imagination.
As my cousins and I grow older, it takes more and more effort to find an alignment in schedules for work, summer programs, and so on. However, with the current state of the world resulting in job losses and remote working, strangely enough it allows for 2020 to be a year where a lot of us can stay up for the whole week.
It all has to be planned out carefully this year, though. With the pandemic still hitting hard, we need to remain conscious of it, especially because of my grandparents and my cousin, Caeden, having weaker immune systems than the rest of us (and the rest of us are not the strongest either - at least, not mine). That means limiting exposure during the weeks leading up, and fortunately most of New England (and New York) has the virus under control, decreasing our likelihood of carrying it with us to Maine.
Social distancing and extra precautions are still in place, but up here, the lifestyle allows us to maintain normalcy for the most part. After all, there are only a few houses on this island, and it’s already a chore to take our boat to the mainland anyway. It seems that the only noticeable difference is that there is more hand sanitizer around the house, and sharing is not as appreciated as it was before.
So, for the most part, things feel under control up here. With a golden rule of “be considerate of others by staying safe before you come up,” the fear is mostly gone the moment the boat is tied to the dock.
The only lack of control we have, it feels like, is with the weather. Since 2017, it seems that the weather is always an issue when everyone comes up to the island. The 4th of July is usually beautiful, but whenever someone parks on the mainland and calls for the boat, the weather takes a turn for the worst.
Maybe it’s not completely true in reality, but it feels this way. In 2017, dark clouds loomed over Zakelo when we first arrived, with my Aunt Sheri and my cousin Bryanna behind us. We barely settled - our bags still zipped up and still on the floor, groceries just unloaded, and beds still being made upstairs - when alerts blared on our phones. The first few were flash flood and severe storm warnings, so the noise - although unsettling still - was recognizable to us. However, the last time it buzzed on the table, it was a tornado warning, but it was not enough of a warning to do anything about it.
There was chaos and yelling, as my sister and I closed all of the windows, playing cards already scattered across the floor. The younger kids were herded into the center of the house, huddled between the main beams. It was dark, then bright within minutes. We lost my grandpa - it turns out he was outside the whole time - but didn’t have the time for a head count when it mattered. Even after it was over, we all stayed on the floor in the hallway just in case it came back. It didn’t, and neither would our appetites.
Every year, we think about it. It’s a scary-cool memory we all share - some of us exaggerating more than others when posting pictures of category five tornadoes, captioned, “I just survived a tornado,” when we really went through a category one - and we inevitably talk about it around the 4th of July each year now. It’s a new tradition.
I guess bad weather became part of the tradition that year. While the last few are fuzzy, it felt normal arriving in a downpour of rain this time because that’s part of coming up for the 4th of July. The day before we got here, my grandma and cousins were drenched by storms too. Tonight, there are heavy clouds, and my cousin Bryanna is coming up. We’ll have to wait and see what it brings, but my guess is some rain.
Our family doesn’t have the typical traditions you might see in other families. They are uniquely chaotic, perhaps because there are so many of us. It spices our lives up and gives us things to talk about.
As for this year, we aren't sure whether or not there will be fireworks. If there are, we'll know when we hear the first one explode. Until then, we will keep relaxing and hope for nice weather.
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