What Goes Up... (Part 2)

One sunny spring day, my family went on a drive and visited my grandparents. A two-hour drive, it was a long way for a young kid to sit in a car, but I made it without being too annoying. I lived at least.

At my grandparents' house, though, my grandfather was doing fairly poorly. He had always had health problems, and had spent most of the last week in bed. But once we got there, he called my sister in to talk to him. She crept into his bedroom, and as he saw her enter, he pulled out an old, deflated balloon.

One day several weeks prior, my mother brought home some balloons. There was a balloon each for me and my siblings, and upon each was one of our names and our address, a way to get ahold of us so we could try to find a pen-pal or something. I guess mom just thought that we were all too antisocial.

So we released the balloons, and I didn't even really think about them again, until we visited my grandparents. My grandfather had been laying in bed when he hear something rustling outside his window. He couldn't tell what it was, but saw light shining off of something, so he sent grandma out to get it. How my sister's balloon managed the 100+ mile journey, just to get caught by a tree right outside my grandfather's window, I'll never know.

I do, however, know that while sometimes it takes a lot of work to get things to come down at the right place, other times you don't even know where the right place is until it's landed.