The 4th of July is big in America! Parades, music, aerial shows & lots of fireworks! We fly across this beautiful country to California, where my husband has many relatives, including his grandpa. They invited us & they are waiting for us. We hope they do. It’s our 1st 4th of July. I have mixed feelings about it. On the outside, everyone around me is celebrating & I kind of must join the crowd, but on the inside, my heart cries. I am not sure where we are going & for how long.
We come empty, we come tired, we come hopeful. A little. Not much. We lost our business in Ukraine & tried to find new partners in England. No luck. We came to the East coast, searching for new opportunities. Nothing. This is our third attempt. What will come out of it? Will we come out of it? I wish our airplane never lands. I wish it keeps flying with us inside, roaming over this crazy world where outside celebration does not always go in tune with the inside feelings.
But our plane lands. We go out, stepping on the escalator, which moves down while I want to drop everything and run back up. If I was a child, it would be fun: I keep moving up while the escalator tries to bring me down & I stay in place while keep going. It’s a dream. Doesn’t work. I wake up & look up. A huge orange rabbit is hanging in the air right above us. It seems like he is jumping, but actually, he is frozen in his jump. Lucky. I envy him. I move down along with the elevator. I see a couple & a kid standing at the very bottom of it, smiling, waving a tiny American flag.
They hug us & grab our suitcases. We all jam-pack into their tiny Prius. “Welcome! We are going to see fireworks! Do you want to go with us?” Finally, it feels like we will have some celebration tonight.