The Fourth of July is hands down, my favorite holiday. When my brothers, cousins, and I were little, we’d all gather up on my grandparents’ deck and light sparklers as we watched our neighbors set fireworks off over the lake.
We were captivated by the sights.
We were inseparable.
We were so innocent.
I’d give anything to go back to those days. Ever since my grandparents passed away, we don’t do that anymore. No one gathers up at the house and sometimes I wonder if we just tolerate each other or if we do really enjoy each other’s company. I hope it’s the latter.
Maybe one day we’ll all reunite, grab a box of sparklers, and relive the magic again. I’d like to.