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Balloons from Beyond

A widow missing her departed husband on Valentine's Day is unexpectedly presented with a very special token of their love.

An artist's rendering of an airborne bunch of red balloons

Valentine’s Day always made me pine for my husband, Jim, more than usual, and that was a lot. I know he’s waiting for me in heaven, Lord, I thought, looking up at the sky. And I’ll get to see him again.

I tried to hold tight to that thought, but sometimes I wished I had a tangible reminder.

My son walked in and surprised me with a Valentine’s Day gift—a dozen red, heart-shaped balloons. I stuttered a thank-you.

“They’re not from me, Mom,” he said. “I was sitting in the front yard when I saw them floating way up high. They were several blocks away, but I had the strangest feeling they were coming to our house.”

“And they did?” I asked.

“They floated low enough to the ground that I could reach up and grab them. But they’re not for me. I just know they’re meant for you.”

A tangible reminder blown right down from heaven to my front door. Jim would always be my valentine.

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