Like a firework on the 4th of July, you shot quietly into the sky- timid and subtle. Rising higher and higher. Rising effortlessly, raising nerves and immeasurable hope. Then suddenly, a huge crash- magnificently terrifying and beautifully unexpected. A crash that shakes us all.. and in the next moment, beautiful light and color fill the sky. Expanding and expanding, tricking us into thinking those colors will go on forever. A terrifying desire to keep that color in our infinite sky. A design all its own, extraordinary, breathtaking.. and rare. Then just as quick as life begins, it starts to end.. fizzling into the ocean, Leaving behind a cloud of smoke and countless broken

But you were more than just a moment. You were flesh and blood. And your crash of color and light will be embedded in my heart and in my memory forever… although your untimely fall was sudden, your rise was magnificent. Your light was mesmerizing, much more than just a moment of awe. You were flesh and blood. My soul mate, my sister, my flesh and blood. A temporary
rush couldn’t hold your significance.

And now the smoke has cleared. No visible trace of you, just an empty sky. A sky that grieves with us. And yet, a spot of light in the infinite black emerges. Like a star peaking out from behind a dark cloud. It is my only guidance, it is my hope because I know that you were ready. Your soul was on fire. It is what made you beautiful, illuminating and tragically deep. But it’s also what made living difficult. I hope you know that to me, you were perfect. I was there for your rise, fall and all of your shine. So shine now, you no longer need to struggle. You are restored and lighting the sky with your true spark, no longer depending on unworthy ignition. You’re free. You were called home on Independence Day and your freedom is only a breath away. I will live to honor you, seeing you in every moment of every day. I’ll embrace you-in darkness and in light, throughout my years, each season filled with signs of you. And I will never again see a
firework quite the same.

In loving memory of my forever firework
My little sister, Kelly
2/23/1991 – 7/4/2015

Jessica Wheeler

Avatar photoJessica Wheeler is an accomplished writer residing in Branford, Connecticut. Her creative passion began at a young age, with a history of writing music and lyrics, as well as singing vocals. Previously having worked in the medical field, Jessica changed course to raise her children while dealing with overwhelming grief and PTSD acquired after losing multiple loved ones in a short span of time. Returning to writing was a comforting outlet for Jessica, and she has become a top-rated poet and author on Her writing often explores themes of loss, grief, and resilience in the face of life's challenges.

5 comment on “Firework

  • Lisa Smith
    April 2, 2021 | 5:59 pm


  • Regina
    April 2, 2021 | 10:20 pm

    So beautiful, Jess, just like you…

  • Brittany Torello
    April 3, 2021 | 6:19 pm

    Absolutely beautiful.

  • Anita
    April 6, 2021 | 5:16 pm

    Such a beautiful piece of writing….Exposing a bright and beautiful heart.

  • Betsy
    April 14, 2021 | 12:52 am

    So beautiful, your love shines thru for Kelly

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