Return to Tradition
The 4th of July croquet tournament.
As a kid, my aunt and uncle hosted a 4th of July croquet tournament every year. They lived right up the street from us (out in the country). Over the years, it morphed into a large event. The kids grew up, got married, and brought their own kids. Even after we'd moved away, we still made the trek back to the coulee every year for croquet.
Eventually, my aunt and uncle decided that it was time for the tradition to come to an end. And so I kept it going. Our backyard has a large pond and lots of trees, but there's a small patch of grass that's suitable for croquet. We've invited friends over and provided food, music, and even prizes.
Last year, we didn't host. It was a mere 18 days before my brain surgery. Instead, my kids went to Arizona to spend some time with my parents. And I spent a few days there myself, trying to keep my mind occupied.
This year, we resumed our backyard croquet tradition. Six people joined us, a mix of adults and kids. It had been raining for days, so our yard was basically a swamp. With the forecast of more rain, we decided to play games indoors instead. Good thing, because the sky darkened around mid-afternoon. A few minutes later, the rain was fiercely pummeling the ground.
The day itself felt totally normal. But that evening, I said to myself, "I wish that I wasn't constantly reminded that I had brain surgery." Every time I smile, I can feel it in the stiffness of my face, especially around my eye.
Someday, I won't "feel" that in the same way. Either my muscles will recover, or I'll just be so used to it that I can't remember a time when I felt differently. But right now, it feels like a distinct "before" and "after."
Anna Burgess Yang