It’s been about three weeks since the Fourth of July, but brother, a friend, and finally got our hands on some sparklers. Brother found them buried in the back of his closet along with a few other interesting things.
Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I lit one of these things. For those of you who don’t know, it’s illegal in New York to have them without a licence. Something about too many people injuring themselves with fireworks or something…
But I digress.
These were especially sentimental sparklers because they came from my brother’s mom, who passed away. In a way, it felt like she was still being her kind self and trying to make us happy through them. She was always looking out for us. I miss her.
That night we stood together, sparklers in hand, we laughed so much as we watched the sparks shoot. We stood in a triangle, trying to guess who’s would last longest– it was mine.
Each of us remembered our childhood, I think.