The scent of hot dogs on the grill fills the air around me, along with my family cracking jokes and sharing stories from the past. It’s the fourth of July and my family is gathered around the warm fire as we hear the high pitched screeching sound of the first fireworks, in which we know from previous years means it’s time for a show, one with a wide assortment of different types of fireworks, sparklers, and filled with laughter and fun. The fireworks explode shortly after into a beautiful assortment of blues and reds, painting a beautiful picture across the dark night sky. This is a painting I’ve seen many times before, just the colors have changed and at that moment, I’m back to being 7 years old. I’m lying down on my back on a blanket at Clintonwood Park fascinated by the hundreds of fireworks exploding one after another, smiling from ear to ear. I’m laughing with my family and my best friend Emma, but my eyes never leave the sky just so I won’t miss one second of what I came to see. Suddenly, the boom of another firework brings me back to present; back to being the 14-year-old girl I am now. Every year around this time my whole family comes up to the small city of Barryton to celebrate the holiday, a reunion in which to celebrate our freedom for another year. My cousins come from down state and my aunts and uncles from Florida, all for our weeklong celebration.

I hear the cheers and see the smiles of my family around me as my cousins and I stand up and prance out to the field in front of my cabin. As we get closer to where my dad and uncle David are standing with a huge box of fireworks, two more fireworks explode, one shortly after the other, with a loud bang, followed by a boom. I hear the chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ of my family, who are setting up in the back of my dad’s truck and in chairs scattered across the road. It’s funny actually, how fireworks are used once but can never be used again, forgotten amongst the years that follow, gunpowder scattered across the ground. I think about how much money is spent going into these things, and it actually confuses me at first, but at the same time, I know why people do it: it’s purely for a good time that you can only do once a year with your family. I look around and see how much fun everyone is having and I feel warm inside, knowing that at that moment, everything was perfect. Nobody was fighting, everyone was getting along, I had received the chance to see my family I hadn’t seen in months, and everything just felt right. As my dad started walking to light another firework, I thought back to all the times we hadn’t gotten along in the past. Even though we did fight a lot and I didn’t say it much, I did love him, and knew how lucky I was to have a best friend like him that was always there for me. Then, as the firework went off, it soared into the air at a strange angel, twirling up into the sky, then exploded into an assortment of gold. I was so distracted by its size and the rumble in the air around us, that I was completely oblivious to what had happened, that is until I heard a cry from nearby pulling me out of my trance. I turned my head to my right and saw my cousin, Jadyn, eyes wide and mouth open, staring towards our fathers. In a swift motion he was on his feet running towards them. I slowly turned my head, fear coursing through my body, and I couldn’t believe what I saw in front of me.

I don’t see my father running to light another firework and I don’t hear the cheers or over exaggerated giggles of my cousins. The mood has shifted, it doesn’t feel right anymore, something has changed, and as I see what I see next, I find myself in a confused panic. I feel the hot tears bubbling up in my eyes and then rushing down my face. My heart is racing so fast I feel like it is about to burst right out of my chest. I try to speak but I can’t, and nobody else can either. There, lying in the grass is my dad, with my uncle kneeling next to him. “Help!” he screams at the top of his lungs, “call 911!” I hear the fear and panic in his voice, and I know something bad must have happened. I’m crying so hard my whole body is shaking and I can barely breathe. I try to rush over to get closer and to see what happened, but I feel arms holding my body back and pulling me away from the area where my dad is laying. Shortly after, I feel the tight, warm embrace of Jadyn as he whispers “it’s going to be okay, Taylor, it’s going to be okay.” My cousin Kimmy rushes to help with her first aid kit in hand, as my mom and sisters approach, and the panicked questions start being asked.

“What happened?!”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“It doesn’t look okay..”

I don’t know what is happening; nobody knows what is happening. I keep trying to think of when I said I love you last to my dad, a hopeless search that I can’t find the answer to. A few seconds later, I see the green Jeep racing up the hill with my dad, cousin, and sister inside. It fell silent, the only noise being a sniffle every now and then. Soon after, we enter my uncle Al’s blue truck and speed off to go to the nearest hospital.

Once we arrive, we quickly ask for the room my dad is in. As we enter the room, we see my dad lying on the hospital bed. I come up to his side, and see the damage that the firework has done - bruised left eye, gunpowder speckled across his forehead and face, burnt off eyebrow - and my heart sinks into my stomach. I kiss him on the cheek and pull a chair up next to the bed, grabbing onto my dad’s hand. His eyes open up. He looks at me and I look at him. He gives my hand a tight squeeze, and with that I know that everything is going to be okay. To me, this was the way of him telling me that, and I squeezed his hand back.

“I love you dad,” I say quietly, thinking back to all the times I took my father for granted in the past. I look down at my shoes, as a lone tear streams down my cheek.

“I love you too, Taylor.” I hear him say, and my head jerks up quickly. I look at him, wiping my face, and I smile. He smiles back.

This smile brought a new light to me and I knew that from now on things would be different. I wouldn’t be the daughter I used to be; the one that begs for everything from her dad just because she knew he’d give it to her. I wouldn’t be the daughter who would blow off hanging out with her parents to go shopping with her friends. I would be the daughter who would appreciate her parents and be grateful for everyday, because in a second, my parents, or I for that matter, could be gone, and I’d spend my entire life regretting it. I think back to the beautiful, powerful fireworks earlier, and how they are now just gunpowder that covers the ground, never to be seen again. It seems like the show is never going to end, but once it does, it just kind of hits you and you feel a sadness that rushes over you. I realized in that moment that that’s how life is and things would change, and this smile from my dad, in pain, ensured that for me.