The fireworks

It’s a blurry picture because I was so focused on Coraline. She was watching the fireworks at a big bonfire party at our friends’ house in our new town tonight. It was the kind of party you don’t want to leave as you’re open mouthed at how good it is.

Around us danced tiny children and amazing warm adults. The children would fly over and say, “Hi Coraline”. Coraline doesn’t reply as she does not yet speak. They know her from preschool. The adults would come over and say to me, “I see you each day but we’ve not met, hi!” Friends we’ve met in town came over to us too. And here we were gathered in the most epic garden kindly invited by lovely friends, alongside the estuary, surrounded by a hum of people. Then the fireworks came.

We were both checking Coraline. Thinking she might hate them. We haven’t been to any displays this year as we thought she wouldn’t like them or understand them. She adored them. Her face was wide with a smile watching them, and ours were to match. In that moment we were at one with everyone and it felt incredible. Our girl was loving fireworks like other kids do. But, in fact, if she’d hated them it would have been like other kids do too. The pride we felt in her loving them is immeasurable. It showed me not to assume. Don’t assume what she will and won’t take to, or feel in myself like we can’t do things or don’t do things because we were tonight.

As we walked home by the inky estuary, too early for my liking, but Coraline had fallen asleep in the pram, her head drooping at the party, a child sailed past on a seat on the back of a bike, “Hi Coraline” she called out into the night full of stars. I’ve mixed up the tenses here but that’s kind of apt for the kind of night it was..