Tonight I shot Dad up in a rocket. The wind was high which made it difficult to light the fuse but made it perfect for lifting the fiery rocket high in the sky. When it reached it's maximum altitude it hung in the dark and I held my breath, then as it began to fall, it's glow disappeared and the sky returned to darkness like nothing had happened. But something did happen because I haven't been able to look at the night sky the same and for that I am grateful.
(Post-it sketch and words I wrote after shooting Dad's ashes up in a firework.)