From the outside they appear so grand,
All standing at a distance, cooing at the colours,
The fiery pinks and reds that flicker through
The night time sky like angry words
That rattled round our little kitchen,
Banging of the cupboard doors
And neighbours whispering in corners,
Wondering what’s going on.
The family firework show is loud,
Embarrassing to some and yet
This day will bring back red hot memories,
Fizzling out with nothing but
A sour taste and bitter tear streaked face.
It is fireworks night here in the UK and it is a night that I really love. I have so many fond memories of making a guy for the bonfire, drinking mulled wine and playing with sparklers.
However, it does also remind me a lot of my mum, because her mum’s birthday was born on November 5th. The sounds of the fireworks tonight are reminding me of her and how sad she is probably feeling today.
I really want to reach out to her, but she is so hostile that I worry my email or call will be misconstrued or twisted in some way. Each bang makes me want to email a little more, but it also reminds me of the doors banging and the endless shouting as we neared the end of our time living with her.
I think I’ll probably chicken out, but I’d love to have the guts to ask her if she is feeling OK tonight…