I've decided i want a night funeral so i can have fireworks. At the funeral. Or at the burial. Doesn't really matter to me. My daughters both said they'd do sparklers in place of roses on the casket, but that's not big enough. I want real fourth of July fireworks.
My husband will have to die first, because he thinks i'm crazy. He doesn't share my fascination with fireworks in the least. I could watch them every night...in fact the last time we went to DisneyWorld, that was my goal. I watched them on the beach, I watched them from the theme parks, I watched them from a boat on the water. I looked for the best spot to watch them, and by golly ... i watched them. I love fireworks, but i love it even more when they are put to music.
I think i got it from my Dad. Dad loved fireworks and I'm sure he introduced us to them at an early age. I guess i just never got over it. He loved every thing about summer..lightning bugs, falling stars, whipporwills, heat lightning, the sound of locusts buzzing in the nearby trees, sitting outside on the patio at night telling Paul Bunyan stories until we got sleepy, and of course...fireworks. In the old timey days when you got to light your own, and it was still legal, we bought more than we could afford and sat up shop in my grandmothers front yard. From the safety of Mama Jo's front porch (or not) we and all the cousins, popped firecrackers, lit roman candles, watched our first "fountains", and explored the fascinating world of pyrotechnics and pyromaniacs.
So this fourth of July, Duane and i went to a great fireworks display. We sat on a pallet waiting for dusk and for the fireworks to start. About half way through the program, this little kid in the group next to us couldn't contain himself any longer and shouted out, "THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!"