I’m sorry I forgot to write to you on the Fourth of July. I suppose I was so caught up in apathy and disappointment for the country we’re in that I forgot it was supposed to be a celebration. But I hope you’ll forgive me despite that. I should remember holidays.
We watched Hamilton on the third when it came out. Have you seen it? I liked the songs (Especially King George III’s, they’re funny) and the whole stage’s aesthetic and lighting. If you haven’t seen it, it’s a good play, though it romanticizes the Revolution and it’s participants.
Pearl didn’t seem to be scared of the distant fireworks. I’m happy for that. We didn’t spark any. Too tired. But aren’t we always too tired? I haven’t had energy since pre-trauma.
I hope you had a fun holiday full of fireworks and, uh, whatever else happens on the Fourth of July. Hotdogs. (Remember that photo of us at Disneyland when you finally got your hotdog?) Hopefully you don’t have to deal with too much patriotism. Not as much as Hamilton, at least.
By the way, the Cleveland Indians are changing their name because of racism, and our family is freaking out. Uncle Ed thinks it’s the end times. I’m just happy they’re changing it. What do you think they’ll change it to? I love you.
With love,
Alice