The Balloon

We've been braving the pollen these last few days to play outside as much as possible. We might be yellow when we come in, but we are tired out and ready to nap and thats what counts!

Back when Jacob was sick with his strep and mystery rash, my sister in law stopped by one day to bring him a balloon. It was a huge balloon in the shape of a firetruck. This morning, months after we got the balloon, it was still flying high. Jacob was a busy "working man" this morning, digging dirt, driving trucks and working with his little tractor and trailer. He had tied his ballon to his tractor as he proudly showed me.

I went in the house to get lunch ready and a few minutes later I heard shrieks and cries of distress from Jacob, "My balloon! My balloon!" I knew before I went outside that most likely the balloon had escaped and was gone. My little boy was sobbing when I got to him and the balloon was floating merrily away on the slight breeze of the day, bobbing, swaying and brightly filling the sky.  I had no hope of recovering it and Jacob was broken hearted. I told him how I lost a red balloon when I was his age too, how it flew out the car window and I was so sad too. But there will be other balloons and maybe his balloon flew away to some other little boy who was very sad that he didn't have one. Ok, so my little pep talk didn't help and he cried his way through lunch.

As he was finishing lunch, Jacob came up with the idea that Mr. Fixit (from Busytown - we have been watching the show on Netflix ad nauseum) could get an airplane and get his balloon..."And he can get your little red balloon too, Mommy!" [So he had been listening.] I didn't know what to say to that. His next idea was that he would get an airplane and go find his balloon and mine. "One day," I told him. Sweet, thoughtful boy.

How often do we have treasures in our possession that we don't realize how much they mean to us until they are gone. I think of the precious time of first few years of the lives of my children and realize that they are much like this balloon. If I don't take care, they will slip away, bobbing brightly along happy to move on, while I am left standing there crying my eyes out because I didn't really appreciate the time until it was gone. I can't go get it back, I can't buy more, I can't hit rewind and do it again. Today. Tomorrow. Make them count, yesterday is too late.