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Five Years Old

"One, two, three!"  Fifteen hands, mostly tiny, release fifteen strings and fifteen pink balloons surge up towards the heavens.  As they climb the wind blows, and they drift apart like wisps of dandelions after lips are open and breath is blown.  The sky reflects blue, maybe the blue of her eyes, and watches as they slip past the clouds.  Fifteen voices shout to the heavens the things they hope Jesus will tell her.  I love you!  I miss you!  Happy Birthday Makiah!  Their love rings out across the playground, and maybe the echos can be heard in heaven.  I know they were heard in this mommy's heart.  Fifteen pairs of eyes stare until the pink orbs disappear into the distance.  

Later that day at the "resurrection ground," her mommy and daddy and sisters stand in the sticky south Georgia heat and attach our love to five pink balloons.  And a little mermaid one.  We send them floating up to meet her.  The sobs are stifled and somehow the heaviness in our hearts seems to lift a bit as we watch the pink messengers journey upwards.  Maybe God will let her see and hear our love all pink and flying.  Maybe she will smile and laugh.  Maybe he will hide the stinging tears from her... the way her ringing laughter has been hidden from us.

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