When I was little I went to Rangers games with my parents to see the fireworks display. It always seemed magical back then. I had no idea what fireworks were other than pretty explosions in the sky. I had no conception of where the colors came from, they just appeared.
As I got older, we’d spend the fourth at my grandparents’ house in Oklahoma. My birthday was on June 29, my uncle on the 30th, my grandpa on the 4th, and my cousin Brian on the 7th. So it became a family tradition to buy fireworks, make homemade ice cream, and eat and talk until dark when we’d shoot them off.
The magic was lessened a little every year, but I still felt it when we did something on the ground that resulted in fantastic displays in the sky above us.
When I met my boyfriend at 16, his family ran a fireworks stand in the summers, and there the magic was erased completely, covered over by sales tactics and cynical disdain for the people who spent whatever we told them to. They were merely numbers for us to manipulate.
It wasn’t until tonight that I discovered the magic inherent in human celebration, and it displayed itself in the most awe-inspiring fireworks show I’ve ever seen. All from my back porch.
I went out for a cigarette around 10 or so, and looked over to the right, over my neighbors’ roof, and there they were. I watched while I smoked, turning in slow circles as one would go off to the right, then behind me a couple of minutes later, then off to the left.
Then it started to rain. By some unspoken agreement, everyone just started firing off everything they had before it got too wet. Holy shit. The sky was on fire. It was almost daylight out there, if daylight were blue and red and green and yellow.
The air was full of crashes and booms, and it rained sparks and jets of fire all over the sky while everyone watching – myself included – got soaked.
Then the lightning started.
I just stood there gaping. I was five years old again staring in wonder at the magic taking place above me. It went on for maybe ten minutes – lightning flashing over the sky while fireworks went off at such a crazy, intense pace that you could hear people screaming with excitement from all around. It was just… epic. Fucking wild.
It never fails to amaze me how resilient we are, as a race. Humanity never stops, never gives up. We take a beating on so many levels – personal, national, international, and still we defy pain and defeat with the sheer force of our rejoicing.
Wow.
Happy birthday, Grandpa. Happy birthday, Will.
Happy birthday, America.
