The Ghost of Fourth of July's Past.

Let me start by saying, I am not sure where this post is going.  I just know I need to write.  :-/  Feel free to leave now because I may begin to ramble, and this may not really go anywhere.

I love fireworks. I love the sound of fireworks. I love how they look in the sky. I love the beauty of fireworks. I love how something so magnificent is inside something so small. It is pretty amazing. 

Fourth of July growing up was always my third favorite holiday.  Philip would by fireworks for weeks.  The Lockridges would come over.  There was often a cook out on the porch.  Victoria and I were not as interested in the hamburgers as we were looking for neighbors fireworks in the sky.  Philip would never shoot off fireworks until after 9:00, because otherwise it would be too bright outside.  Never a moment before 9:00.  We had the skin so soft lathered on, sparklers galore, and countless fireworks.  All of the lights in the house had to be off.  There were chairs lined up, Victoria and I always sat on the bench.  We would always sit and enjoy an amazing firework show.  Philip put together better shows than any professional could do. 

Yesterday was not so amazing.  I know I haven't been to Aiken to see one of Philips amazing shows since I was 14.  But, something about knowing that I missed out on six years of fireworks with him to work kills me.  Something about knowing that I will never get to see one of his amazing firework shows again, something about knowing my (future) kids will never get to see one of his amazing firework shows... It just breaks my heart.

I didn't want to be anti-social and lay in bed and cry like I wanted to.  I went to Nicki's house for firework extravaganza.  As I sat in her yard watching her husband shoot off fireworks, I couldn't enjoy it. 

I came home and watched the DVD created by the funeral home for his funeral.  I hadn't done that yet.  I cried so hard and so much that I had a headache.  I miss him so much.  I wish I hadn't been so selfish the past six years.  I wish I had spent them with him. 

(If you read through this, thanks.  I am officially balling my eyes out again.)