The fireworks went off outside the home she lived in for sixty-two years now. Her memory took her back to forth of Julys past and the way he use to make such a big deal out of shooting off bottle rockets and black jack fire crackers to the delight of the children safely standing a distance away. She could still see his face as he lit one after the other running away from the fuse as fast as he could while the kids laughed and plugged their ears waiting for the big boom. She knew he went without so he could buy the fire works sometimes going without cigarettes for a week just so they would not be disappointed.
He was like that she thought to herself in all that he did. Family was everything and she loved him for that and many other reasons. Closing her eyes she could smell the hot dogs cooking over a small fire he made out of an old barrel. The kids helped him by gathering sticks from the field which he used as skewers. Each child roasted their own hot dog which they ate off their hand-picked sticks. Then came a real treat a bowel of marshmallows, two each and oh how they savored each bite.
He continued the fourth of July festivities well into his eighties. One of the older grandsons took over the duty of lighting the fire works and the old barrel was replaced with a fancy grill but the smile on his weathered face told her how happy he was. When he passed the kids and grandkids kept his tradition going never missing a year. She wiped her eyes and whispered she loved him to his picture she kept in a locket. Those kids would be here soon and she had to get a front row seat.
Mike
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