06 Jul Freedom To Feel
“May I have a turn holding your balloons?” The little boy walking alongside the little girl in pigtails asks during the Independence Day parade.
Contemplating the request, the little girl with pigtails clutches her three shiny red, white, and blue star-shaped helium balloons with a mix of pride and uncertainty. She hesitates to share something so special, tightly wrapping the white strings around her small hand.
After a thoughtful pause, she passes the balloons to the little boy, her actions cautious and deliberate.
Almost immediately, the little boy loses his grip on the strings and the balloons start drifting out of reach, ascending higher and higher.
The little boy and girl come to a standstill as the parade continues to inch forward without them, their gazes fixed on the whimsical dance of the balloons against the sky until they become mere specks.
The little girl in pigtail’s heart breaks as she watches her balloons drift away. Tears are streaming down her cheeks. She runs to her mother, sobbing. As the parade continues until the final banner marks its end, the little girl talks about her sadness while being held.
Ella shares this story—her story—with me on this 4th of July, eight years after she walked in that Independence Day parade wearing pigtails and carrying her three star-shaped balloons.
I listen to the narrative she shares, the details she recounts about this event. She holds no regret for sharing her cherished balloons, nor does she harbor any resentment toward the little boy. “If only I hadn’t…” or “If only I had…” are absent from her words.
Because that’s not what lingered in Ella’s memory all these years. What stayed with her is the magnitude of her loss in that moment and the support she received when she reached out, seeking comfort.
As I reflect on the passing years and the various sources of pain she has encountered—challenging classes, hurtful remarks from friends, people and pets who leave this world too soon—I realize it’s not my role to shield my children from emotional pain. Instead, I see my responsibility as ensuring they never feel alone in their emotional struggles.
Resilience, after all, isn’t born out of a lack of adversity, but from having the reassurance of support during difficult times.
I hope the stories Ella shares about her childhood include memories of parades and balloons and countless moments of pure joy. And in those unavoidable moments of challenge and struggle, I hope to be the steadfast string that anchors her emotions—a guiding tether amidst life’s winds.