Bringing Fireworks to Mom

Gifts can be as quiet as a hug or as loud as whizzing, bursting, explosive stars in the sky. Lately I have been given a little of each. My son Jeff came for a visit this Fourth of July weekend. He brought with him a large box labeled “Aerial Bombardment” that he had purchased in Vancouver on his drive up I-5 from Oregon… “These are legal in Washington,” he said with a big smile, “so I thought I’d bring Fourth of July fireworks to Mom.” Should I be surprised? No. For my birthday several years ago Jeff had a star named for me with all the appropriate certification and galactic map to locate its exact position in the sky. Our problem was where to shoot off the aerial bombardment. The house just below the cottage belongs to Bellingham’s assistant fire chief and setting off our explosive arsenal in the neighborhood didn’t seem like such a good idea. I suggested driving to Fairhaven and the area near the Alaska ferry terminal. So we loaded ourselves, the fireworks, and my new chaise lounge lawn chair into the Jeep at around 9 o’clock, and drove to Fairhaven. Amazingly we found just what we were looking for… a large gravel parking lot had been cordoned off, the dry grass flattened with protective netting, and families arriving with their own fireworks… a mass sharing of fun in a safe environment. There were Roman candles, boomers, smoke bombs, children with sparklers, and the more elaborate aerial displays. But everyone agreed, Jeff’s were the best. I sat in my lawn chair, eyes to the sky and watched the stars explode above my head. Bob bent down and whispered in my ear… “We’ll plan on doing this again next year.” At 10:30 we could see off in the distance the big firework show in Bellingham Bay. The crowd whooped and hollered when it was all over, including me. And I know I would not have been here had it not been for my son’s gift of fireworks.

... PLM