A child's first balloon. The wonder of it flapping in the air. The rubbery squeaky sounds it makes in the back seat. The knowledge of it pop-ability still laying in unchartered territory. Pure wide-eyed excitement and joy.
A child's first balloon, slipping from a tiny grasp, unaware of the consequences. The happy bobbing of the balloon as it slides across the horizon, becoming smaller and harder to locate, and finally becoming one with the clouds.
I see tears welling up in his eyes. "Baboon, Mommy!!," as a tiny sob escapes.
I think quickly....
"Look how happy your balloon is, Brent!!!! Look at him flying up to the clouds! I bet he's having so much fun!!!!" I say, with just that many exclamation points, if not more. My semi-sincere smile threatens to break my cheeks.
He considers this, and tries to follow along. "Happy Baboon?....Flying?" He is still wearing a frown, but his eyebrows are furrowed up trying to re-assess the situation and understand why I'm acting so HAPPY that his balloon is flying away.
He jumps in the air a few times, stretching toward the sky "Can't weach baboon, Mommy"
"I know, baby", I said sympathetically. "Maybe you'll get another balloon someday. I think this one just wanted to go for a fly today."
Another childhood lesson slips away, taking a bit of innocence with it. We stand and watch as the balloon bobs across the field and over the tree tops, and out of sight at last. I coach him inside, feeling his sadness and trying to distract him. I can't help but think of a little baboon who will be flying away someday too. Some things are too beautiful to keep on the ground.
No comments:
Post a Comment