Sending my Dad a balloon

I'll tell this story with pictures. I hope you don't mind. It's long, but I think it's worth the read. Enjoy!

I went to the store around 12:30 to buy the balloon for my Dad. They didn't have a red balloon except one that said Happy Birthday. The color wasn't that important really so I decided on a balloon that I liked, had it blown up and brought it home.

I had already written the letter to Dad. I quickly tied the envelope to the balloon, and took another picture.

I was glad that I gave myself extra time, because the envelope made the balloon too heavy. I had to fix that. Next time I'll just buy two balloons. This time, I just quickly removed the letter, and tied it to the string....discarding the envelope. Then I left, in search of the perfect spot to release the balloon from. I wanted it to be somewhere special. Somewhere I can go every time I want to release a balloon. I found the perfect spot. There is a bike trail that starts here on the edge of town about a block from my apartment. It winds and twists it's way across farmland. The trail itself is two miles long. If you drive down the road to the other end it's only one mile away though. So that's what I did. I drove to the other end, and then walked 1/4 of a mile up the trail. There are these little memorial benches along the bike path, and there happens to be one beside this pond.

At the edge of the pond the corn is growing tall! There were birds everywhere, and I even saw a bunny hop across the trail in front of me. As I sat down on the bench, I found myself talking to my Dad aloud, as if he were right there. I told him how much I loved him, and that I wish he was there with me. That is when the most amazing thing happened. This hawk swooped down out of nowhere and landed less than 10 feet away on the fence post! I quickly snapped a picture, and then stood and walked towards him. Unfortunately, my camera battery died then. It was amazing.

This hawk let me get so close that I could almost touch him! Then he screeched at me, so I decided not to push it. I sat down on the path and stared at him. I even spoke aloud to him. For five minutes that hawk sat there beside me, and from the moment he landed I felt such a wave of comfort wash over me. At 12:55 I looked at him and said "You aren't going to pop my balloon when I let it go are you?" He tilted his head to the side, screeched at me again, and then flew off. I can't even put into words how much comfort that silly little creature brought me. It's almost as if my Dad sent him to be with me.

At 12:56 (1:56 eastern) I began to cry again as I released the balloon. I watched it float higher and higher as I said "I love you Daddy!" over and over again. I sat and watched my balloon as it became a dot, and then a speck, and then completely disappeared. I glanced at the clock and realized it took 6 minutes for the balloon to disappear from view. In another parallel, I now know from reading the nurses notes from the day Dad passed, that she noticed the first signs that he was passing at 1:50pm. Dad drew his last breath at 1:56 pm. Six minutes. It just made sense to me. It seemed right that the balloon take that long to leave my sight.

Watching that balloon was completely gut wrenching. I sat and sobbed most of the six minutes. I still had to sit for several minutes afterwards before I could see enough to drive home. On my walk back to the car, I noticed a butterfly that was flying along side the path. It followed me all the way to the parking lot before flying away out through the fields. Another sign? maybe. Or maybe experiences like we have all had.....losing someone we love so much makes us slow down just a little bit and see the things we would normally overlook. I feel much better now that I released the balloon. I will do it again in October for my Dad's birthday. It's going to be a tradition now. I'll send my Dad balloons on his birthday, the anniversary of his death, and my birthday and the kids' birthdays. It really was a 'healing' experience.