July 4th is Independence Day here in the United States. It is also Israeli Girl's birthday. My husband's relationship with Israeli Girl was his bottom: it was what finally caused him to admit his sexual behavior was out of control, that he was an addict. I began calling her Israeli Girl contemptuously: while not technically a girl, she was only 19 when my 30+ year old husband met her on a business trip abroad and began a several year long relationship with her. I don't feel the same contempt anymore, yet I still cannot quite bring myself to grace her with a name. Somehow, giving her a name gives her some humanness, some power, that I don't yet want her to have.

For years, Israeli Girl was one of the most worrisome splinters in my brain. I remember one year, on July 4th, Mark spent $70 of our money (I was furious when I saw the price) on a single international phone call to her, to say happy birthday. I listened to the entire call, jealously, edgily, because something seemed wrong, suspicious, off. I listened for any hint in his voice of anything beyond friendliness -- some trace of desire, seduction, attraction, deep caring, love -- but I didn't hear them, although I knew the sound of them well. And I settled back into a dissatisfied uneasiness, which persisted, until years later, everything fell apart, and made sense.

After my husband admitted his addiction, admitted that one April day he had finally hit bottom with Israeli Girl, July 4th was tainted. I imagined all of those beautiful fireworks going off to celebrate her birthday. I remembered the phone call, imagined what he must have written to her in those years e-mail messages they exchanged, and I couldn't stand to leave the house. This night four years ago, new in a black place of crushing, disbelieving pain, I cringed at each pop of a distant firework, each whistling rocket, and felt they were searing and exploding inside of me.

The next year, Mark and I were wondering aloud whether or not to go out and try to see fireworks. He was tired, and I was still angry and depressed. We both understood that subtext, although with the kids listening, we simply said to each other, "Should we go?" My son heard us talking and said, with verbal skills newly developed after a year of speech therapy, "I want to watch fireworks!" So, it was decided, and I declared it my Independence Day. I was not going to let a tyrannical past rule my present; I would not let the past cast a shadow that blotted the fireworks from the skies my children saw.

We didn't have a destination that year, we simply drove around until we saw some fireworks and parked the car by the side of the road to watch them. There is a Schoolhouse Rock song my son liked to listen to that contained a line, "Red, white and blue fireworks like diamonds in the sky..." As he gazed up into the sky, my son echoed it back, gasping, "They look like diamonds in the sky!" He was thrilled to see a smiley face in the sky, and to watch the blaze of fireworks that marked the end of the show.

As I was putting him to bed afterwards, I told him that he could go to sleep and dream about trains (which were his obsession at the time). When he said he didn't know what dreams were, I told him they were pictures in your head while you sleep. He looked thoughtful, and said, "We can go to sleep and see fireworks in the sky, and we can see that face and then lots and lots like diamonds in the sky."

See, I worried about Israeli Girl's birthday ruining the fireworks, when in fact, my son's joy, and the magic he saw in the sky, threw a light on that night that no dark memory could blot out. I wouldn't think of missing fireworks after that year.

Last year my daughter was awake and old enough to appreciate the fireworks for the first time. As she walked outside, she saw the moon, which was quite a new and exciting sight to her, since her bedtime was 7 p.m. She asked if the moon could come with us to see the fireworks, and I promised her it would. During our car ride, she looked out the car window, checking to make sure that the moon was following us to the fireworks display. When we arrived, she was thrilled to see the moon, still there, watching. She sat with her mouth open wide through the whole show and was too excited to fall asleep, even so long after her bedtime, on the way home.

She and her brother have been chattering all day about the fireworks, about sitting outside and eating cookies and having the moon there and seeing lots of them explode at the end of the show and waving our flags and singing love songs to our nation, like "America the Beautiful," which gives me goosebumps (truly) every time I hear it. My life may not always be perfect, and my country may not always be perfect, but both of us are free.

Happy Independence Day. Enjoy the fireworks.

Two years ago, I gave up on New Year's resolutions.  What do those ever lead to but disappointment anyway?  Maybe I keep them, but mostly I don't.  And when I don't, I feel like a failure.  So, I picked a single word as my intention for the year instead.  Since I was feeling down at the time, the word I picked for 2008 was "happy." And what do you know, 2008 was happy!

As 2008 drew to a close, I picked another word.  The word for 2009 was "God." And I'm pleased to report that this really was a year of growing spirituality:

• I started attending 12 Step meetings again and reworking the Steps with a Step group of wonderful women.
• I meditated and prayed more this year than any other in my life, which included spending time on a short spiritual retreat.
• I instituted my own Sabbath, a day each week focused on rest and spirituality.
• I even, although I didn't write about it here for anonymity reasons, celebrated my birthday with a special dedication to God.

Wow.  Since this whole word thing has been working out pretty well, it's time to pick a focus for 2010.  And this year's word is (drum roll, please):

HEALTH

Yep, this year I will be focusing on my health.  I plan to continue working on my mental, emotional and spiritual health as always, but I'm hoping to concentrate especially on my much neglected physical health.  I am not setting any specific goal.  No "I'm going to lose 10 pounds" or "I'm going to stop drinking soda."  I'm just going to see where the word "health" takes me.  Hopefully to more exercise, eating better and regular doctor's visits, but we'll see.  I'm open and ready.

Hope you all have a wonderful, happy, healthy New Year! Do you have an intention — or any good old fashioned resolutions? Leave a comment. I'd love to hear about them.

She lights up like a
firefly whenever you're
around, George Bailey.

Once a year. Each year.
They emerge, sparkling,
to be packed away.

The delicate glass,
like breath on a windowpane,
glitters and is gone.

This year, glass soldiers
wait, tissue-wrapped with angels,
in muffled darkness.

I hear your silence
echoing through the carols
louder than church bells.

If the glass shatters,
but you aren't there to hear it,
does it make a sound?

Last night my husband Mark and I stayed up past midnight finalizing the details of our Christmas budget and to do list. We divided up the errands and agreed on which of us would buy for whom and how much money we would each use to do it. I (in an uncharacteristically organized fashion) made a detailed list of everything I'd volunteered to take care of as well as a few other things that occurred to me. I set it next to my computer along with a calendar showing my deadline for each item, so that I'd be ready to start tackling things this morning. Only before I'd checked off a single item, Mark saw the list.

"Um, honey?" said Mark.

"Yes?"

"I saw your to do list and it's really, really long. I didn't realize it last night but you did volunteer to take ownership of more than I did. Is there anything I can take off your plate?"

"Hm. I don't think so. It's a lot, but there's nothing I really want to hand off. I want to do it. It will be fun."

"And I wouldn't do it right," he said with a wink.

"Okay, yes. Damn it. I want to do it because I think you're not going to do it right. But I am going to meetings for that!"