49 Comments

So good. Thank you for this beautiful piece/lament/love. And fascinating that on the very same you (at Small Stories) and me (at Small Stories about Big Things) - while going in different directions - harnessed the fundamental gift of bonfires/campfires and how they are so much more: https://bobbyhulmelippert.substack.com/p/a-forgotten-glow

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Our children grow up and find lives of their own. With these memories you are making, they will always gravitate back. These memories are the glue of our togetherness.

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I may be particularly emotional as I hold my own second daughter inside as a secret too, but right now I’m in my kitchen, in tears, with a chocolate cake in the oven and my eldest daughter’s favourite dish on (pasta with broccoli, as odd as it may sound...). And I’m suddenly traveling faraway in a time when she’ll no longer be this sweet hurricane of a toddler, all cheeky dimples and squeaky sounds, but a grown up almost-woman, ready to take flight — something I will work all my life until that moment to be ready for. And at the same time I’m right here, seeing her and feeling her with more presence and heart than ever as she cuddles me close because she saw me crying. Thank you for this precious moment, for allowing me to cherish it more deeply, to let it seep all the way down to the marrow in my bones to hold onto forever ♥️

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I really love this, Laura. Bonfire night has always been special for me. My gran and grandpa had a piece of land next to their bungalow where we would have a big family bonfire every year. Roasting chestnuts, clutching mugs of soup and eating piles of stuffed jacket potatoes and - of course - parkin. We’d wave sparklers and my grandpa would nail Catherine wheels to the back fence. It was always magical. We’re actually having a family bonfire in a couple of weeks time as we can’t all gather at Christmas this year. And, for the first time, we’ll be bringing the newest generation of our family into this tradition. 🥰✨

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So much of this resonates with me, Laura. Thank you for expressing it so beautifully and evocatively.

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This piece took me back to sights, smells and tastes of Bonfire night ( I make Parkin at this time of year like my Grandma did and it always brings back memories). Your poignant words around teenagers and how many more Bonfire nights, Christmases they will be at home resonated deeply...I don't want to think about it because I want them to fly free and enjoy independence and adventure but it doesn't make it any easier. ❤️‍🩹

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This is so beautiful. We are yet to have our first bonfire night outing with our littles, but I really hope I remember it like this when we do. Xx

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Not ALL can feel things more deeply ~ I believe it is a gift

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Beautiful... “Sharper than sadness, it is closer to grief—the inevitability of love.”

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How beautiful this is to read - thank you

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I can't help but count too ♡

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After doing our first fireworks night with our two (three and one years old) this year, your beautiful, evocative writing touched me deeply...I will be holding them even closer as we gradually find our traditions. Can already feel the pain/grief you describe of letting them go into the world... Love to your mama heart xx

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This:

“…wrapped in paper packets tied with string, to be opened with cold fingers and shared beside the fire.”

🥰

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Such a beautifully written, evocative piece, which took me back to the bonfire nights of my childhood.

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So so beautiful; those thoughts, those feelings, those words.

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Beautiful!

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