Balloons: Up to Heaven
This time last year we attended our daughter’s memorial service. Exactly one week after I had given birth to her, a glorious event, we were celebrating her glorious homegoing. It was too poignant for words. A day I will never forget and full of bittersweetness. Ian and I felt then that the ceremony gave us some closure. The memorial service was so well executed – the 90s Christian music playlist I had organized for the prelude, the lavender ribbons and bows like her nursery that adorned the sanctuary, the numerous pictures of her precious face in the church foyer, the heartfelt messages Ian and I shared with the congregation, the powerful pastoral teaching from the scriptures about Hope and grieving well, the prayers and poems and lullabies shared by family members, the hugs and kind words of so many dear people – we felt uplifted and at peace beyond understanding. But that warm feeling blew away as the chilly winter winds swept in. By late November we were struggling to just get out of bed …



