Ten minutes before midnight and the noises from the street were growing steadily. I’d been barely maintaining all night, just doing activities that occupied my body and stupefied me so I didn’t have the opportunity to drown in my sorrow.
I’d juggled my time by watching stupid movies, going to the supermarket and returning home to start preparations for Texas-style chili that would take 2.5 hours to cook and finally stopping to clean out the litter trays.
New Years Eve and instead of celebrating out with friends I’m walking out onto the stoop with a sack full of cat crap to toss into the garbage bin. I look up towards the west only to have sunbursts of color from a fireworks display unlike any I’ve seen before light upon my cheeks.
The sky was lit from north to south in stunning dandelion puffs, dahlias, peonies of twinkling lights. Shimmering colored diamonds they were, a flash and flutter of confetti and then sputtering out only to be replaced with a crackle and snap and that unmistakable odor of gunpowder.
After a miserable scorching hot summer without rain this fall and winter the area saw a few inches and local officials lifted the burn ban outside of city limits and allowed fireworks for the coming of the New Year.
Naturally the general public will always break the law thus the display was not only out in the distance of the hill country 10 miles away but as close by as 2-4 blocks.
The show was stunning and I suddenly was taken by my emotions and wracked with sobs because I am now reminded quite firmly that there will be no more years with my precocious pussycat that has brought me so much passion and peace for a dozen years.