The Remember Balloons, by Jessie Oliveros

Our very splattered faces gave at Nellie's cow such a fright. She couldn't make milk for days. What about the blue one grandpa? That's the time I lost my favorite dog, Jack. Grandpa chuckles. I found him chasing butterflies next to the schoolhouse. Only Jack could get me to school on a Saturday. And that one, I point to a purple balloon above his head, grandpa looks up and smiles his face alive with remembering. That's the day I married your grandma and the little church in Cedar lane. We danced that night under the stars and, oh, how I loved her. I don't have to ask about the silver balloon because I have one, too. That was the day we stood on the dock to the sun went down feeling tug after tug on her line. Graph on I must have caught a thousand fish. Grandpa ruffles my hair like he always does. That's one of my favorite balloons. Mine too, I say. My grandpa's been having problems with those balloons lately. One will get caught in a tree. It'll tell me the same story over and over. 

Let me tell you about the Christmas I went to aunt Nell's farm grandpa says, even though we just finished telling me about it. Other times the balloon will float right out of his hand and that he won't even know it. It's okay, grandpa, yellows, I run after it, and every time I almost reach it, but it always slips away. Something's wrong with grandpa I tell my parents he can't hold onto his balloons anymore. Mom looks at me with sad eyes that happens sometimes when people grow older. I'm gonna ramp up balloons, start floating away faster and faster, running down streets and uphills. I watch the balloons. Grow smaller. He finally loses the silver one. I watch her float away until I can't see it anymore. Why did you let it go? I yelled. That was our balloon. Then I sit on the sidewalk and cry. I feel a grandpa pat my back, but he doesn't ruffle my hair like he always did. Why are you crying, child? There's nothing to cry about. One day I go to see him and all his balloons are gone. Grandpa is saying, but he doesn't look at me. 

It'll be okay dances. Look up. See, mom says another ears to share. I have new balloons now, yellow one filled with BlackBerries in a cow. A blue one filled with grandpa's favorite dog, a purple one filled with a wedding day. So I climb at the grandpa's lap and begin telling them about my new balloons. I'll have to wipe away a tear after that one. This is a show me nominee. This won the Schneider family book award, which is a word for a book about people with a disability. This is one of the ones you can vote on if you go to the mobile district. I will tell you how you can vote on that later. Everybody have a good day. Please remember to mask up.