A Blue Balloon
March 17, 2012 Leave a comment
“Chasing down hot air balloons
on Sunday morning,
In pace with a familiar tune
I reach for nothing less
but something more, all the day
and the wind is at my back most of the way”
The young man sat on the swivelly, rolly chair and batted the blue balloon at his nephew who then batted it over to Richard, who was asleep.
The balloon hit Richard’s head and the ladies laughed. Richard was asleep (or so it seemed). The impact of the balloon did not wake him… or did it? It was hard for the young man to tell.
The young man then commenced batting the blue balloon over to Helen, who batted it back with her right hand and arm, her left arm noticably immobile.
Helen smiled at first, but then grimaced when instructed to use her left arm for a bit.
If I could wave my magic wand…
The young man rolled over close to Helen and asked her quietly,
“What is the matter with your arm…does it just not work?”
Helen grumbled softly and the young man had difficulty making all the words out.
The young man’s nephew was called out of the room and Richard and Helen and the other ladies walked or were wheeled out.
“Goodbye Helen”, the young man called.
“Goodbye, thank you.” the words came back over Helen’s shoulder.
The young man sat alone in the now quiet room. He looked over at the blue balloon which was now motionless on the floor.
He was sad and lonely. His playmates were gone.