Firecracker Baby

It'll be 5 years this September since my cousin Karli died in a car accident.  She was born on the 4th of July and it was quite telling of the life she'd go on to lead.  Like a firecracker, Karli came into the world with a bang, illuminating everything and everyone around her... she burned so brightly and lived so vibrantly that you could barely keep up... and then just, like a firecracker, her light was gone... leaving you with that burned image in your eyes from having watched something so spectacular.  You close your eyes and try to hold on to the image just a little bit longer, not wanting the beauty that had once been to fade.  It breaks your heart to open your eyes back up, knowing the firecracker's light can never be lit again.

But it doesn't need to be lit again because, just like a firecracker, the point of life is not to burn the longest- it's to burn the brightest. To make the most of the time, however short or long, you are on this earth.  So whether you're here for 2 months, 22 years or 102 years, the greatest memories we have are of those firecrackers in our lives.  The breathtaking ones who always make people happy, who laugh and cry in equal parts, who make people want to be around them and who, when their stunning light does go out, leave so many tears from their family and friends that you could fill the ocean.

The best part of the 4th of July is not the food or the American flags or even the day off from work- the best part is the thrill of the fireworks.  They are always the best part, making every one ohh and ahh.  And that was Karli, making everyone she met ohh and ahh at her joy and sparkle.

I love and miss you Karli, but every time I see a burst of light in the night sky I remember you and your smile... and I know I'll see you again.