I was probably six years old at the time; something like that. I had a red bicycle. I loved the color red. My mother bought me a round, red, mylar, helium balloon. I loved the balloon. It was something new to me. I tied my lighter than air prized possession to the handlebars of my red bicycle and off we went on a ride around the block. I was thrilled in a way that only a small child could be. I got to the top of the hill and the balloon came untied and I wasn’t fast enough to grab it. I was destroyed, devastated. I had experience a life of loss and somehow, this was too much. I rode home sobbing, I cannot explain why but that memory is still painful to me, some 30 years later.

I don’t handle loss well, I never have. I know it seems silly on the surface, but a few weeks ago our son lost a necklace that my husband had bought him and I was so very sad for him; his total decimation surrounding his lost was too much to bear, so I made a u turn and went back to the store. We searched high and low and couldn’t find it. I asked at the check out and they said they would keep an eye out for it.

A few days later….they found it. I never did get my red balloon back but I will get a tattoo of a red balloon that says “let it go”.

Lets try and let go of some of the more painful memories we carry with us each day.