First lesson in letting go...
When I was 4, my Mom was working on her graduate degree, and my brother and I got to go to work with my Dad. He had a gas station, and we always had a great time making tunnels and forts with the stacks of tires, riding on the lifts, and just plain getting to hang out with Dad. He wasn't home very much. He was an alcoholic and a workaholic. So some of my best childhood memories of him come from this time. One day he took us with him on a bank errand. This was back in the days when grand openings were a very big deal, and another branch of the bank had opened and they were giving out candy and balloons. Dad asked me what color I wanted. Pink. They didn't have pink, so he got me a red one. He really liked red. I was not even disappointed, because a balloon is a balloon. When we got back to the station, he warned me not to take the balloon outside, children's grips and helium being what they are. Naturally, I pushed the envelope, and was standing in the open doorway when the balloon got loose. It bounced on the overhang outside and Dad made a daring leap to catch it, but it was too late. The screaming commenced. Before I knew what happened I was up in his arms and we were outside, and he was pointing at the balloon and saying "Watch it! Don't miss this!" It sailed, I cried. "Will it ever come down?" "Sure, honey. It'll get cold up there and float back down." "Will we be able to get it?" "Ooooooh, I don't think so. I'll bet that balloon ends up in China." Then he made up a wonderful story about a little chinese girl finding my balloon, and how happy it made her. I was fascinated. Better than that, I was happy it got away.
When we buried Dad a few years ago, I picked out a red tie for him to wear. I've never seen this before or since, but my Dad was smiling at us from his coffin. When I looked at his smile, my eyes drifted down to his red tie and I saw that balloon sailing away. I thought "When he comes down, somebody over there is going to be really happy to find him."
In thinking about the Thanksgiving holiday, and numbering the things I have to be thankful for, my Dad always comes to mind. And today I realized, he gave me my first lesson in letting go. Thanks Dad.