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We have a habit of releasing balloons to the sky. Early on, when the children were very young and the thought of wrestling away party balloons from non-compliant children worried us, we told our children that balloons yearn to fly. In flight they reconnect with their families; whereas in our homes, they are confined and sad.

Fast forward to present day and we still have the habit of releasing balloons and staring at the sky until the balloons can no longer be seen. These events are followed by long conversations about the sky and where our loved ones go once their time with us has expired. They especially like to think that our balloons find their way back to Ajax, our beloved dog who passed some time ago.

But mostly, I love to listen to their imagination and the wonderful images they conjure. Sometimes we have to pull them from these reveries and redirect them to the here and now: eat, bathe, chores, etc.  But, I wonder, won’t there be enough time for the mundane later on? 

Anyway, the kids enjoy this tradition and at the end of a long day, we are thankful for the diversion.

But sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I had enough time to just stare at the sky until everything is blurred and spinning, and I can no longer see it.

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