Air mattresses start covering the floor as revelers wind down and visiting travelers depart. While the grandfather clock chimes off the hours, snores and the quiet hum of the dishwasher replace rowdy songs. Cheerfully, I work with a few others to clear away dishes and clean up evidence of our merry mayhem. The recycling bin overflows into leftover gift boxes. Cup towels hold piles of rinsed dishes awaiting second and third runs of the dishwasher. My heart is so full of joy that I smile even as I help the exhausted hosts return the place to its normalcy.
This family party has been an annual highlight since I was seventeen. It has changed a bit through the years, yet the exuberant nature of celebration remains. I carry my high heeled boots in hand and chatter happily with my husband on our long drive home. We reminisce about unravelling packs of firecrackers and twining together the wicks into a long string to keep the chain detonating. Now you can actually buy giant rolls of them from the fireworks warehouse! With these innovations, the guys tweak their firecracker displays every year, buying more, lengthening the train, and increasing the cacophony.