We were all three in our bed

Sunday night

The booms

Blasts up into the dark sky

Lighting up our room in their pulses

At

10pm

11pm

2am

3am

I was exhausted

Wishing they would stop

Angry

About ready to walk up and down the block yelling

At everything

And everyone

She was scared

The sporadic nature of these loud sounds

Their unpredictability

The way they rattled the windows

Then she became enthralled

When I told her

They were celebrating

Some people make noise when they are joyful

That feeling lasted for a few minutes

Until the next jarring sound

She doubled-down in her fear

I told her that she’s inside

She’s safe

We’re with her

We’ll take care of her

And then it gripped me

Thinking

Of the families

Halfway around the world

Exhausted

Weary

Holding each other through the night

As the booms and blasts go

On

And on

Overhead

The stories that the moms and dads and aunties and uncles and grandmas and grandpas and brothers and sisters tell the little ones

While the sky rains light

Who do they say is celebrating?

When the final firework went off at 3am

She was alert

She grabbed both my cheeks in her small hands

And said

In a whisper

To the tear on my face

I’m safe