Letting Go

We celebrated the twin's birthday this past weekend.  One of the balloons escaped from the car.  It was Katie's pink balloon, the one she wanted most.

A while back, a similar loss took place; another balloon, another color and occassion, but same child.  I recall her getting very upset, and needing comfort.  I was all she had, and little did she know I was having a hard time watching the balloon float away, as well.  I'm not good when balloons escape the clutching hands of it's owner.  My stomach clenches and panic lurches as I try to grab the ribbon that once tied said balloon and child together.  It may seem foolish, but floating balloons sadden me.  I feel it as a child's loss, and it hurts.

It's a loss that separates, and it's painful for me to watch because there is nothing I can do to save the day for my baby.  [Me, being the biggest baby of them all.]

Typically, I cannot save the balloon from it's unwanted launch.  So my daughter and I did what any couple would do; we stood and we watched.

and watched.

Katie asked me, "What happens to it?"

In my adult-mind, I know the burst of color floats into the sky until it pops.  But I hardly think a five-year old wants to hear that her newly-escaped party balloon dies.

So I made-up a story.  I told her the balloon floats and floats until it finds a place it thinks a lonely child may live, and floats back down so that lonely child can see and capture the new balloon.  I told my daughter to imagine finding a balloon like that, knowing what a special fun surprise that would be for another child.  Katie liked that idea very much, so we left it at that.

When her pink balloon floated away from the car this weekend, I was sure she was going to get upset.  My stomach clenched as I felt my tears begin to well; another pink balloon was going to float and die.  This time I looked at my now six-year old daughter watch and pout for a moment, then turn to walk inside.  She wasn't upset or sad.  She knew a lonely child would find it, and soon feel glad.

That's when I realized how hard it is for me to let-go.

It will always be sad for me watching a single pink balloon float away.  But my daughter is teaching me how to let go.