When my Grandpa passed away, the family decided it was best that my Grandma sell her house and move in with my parents. When I spoke to her about the possibility of moving in with my mother, she expressed hesitation.
“I don’t want to be a burden to your mother. My mother lived with me for years before she died and I know how hard it was to take care of her. I don’t want to put that burden on your mom.”
That’s how my Grandma was. She never wanted to burden anyone in any way. She just wanted to take care of everyone and make sure everyone else was happy. I can honestly say I never once heard her complain about her life or hardships. And believe me, she had many.
She did end up moving in with my mother and it was the best decision she could have ever made. She had an amazing three years. She started attending my parents church, she made many friends– spent her day visiting people from the church, holding bible studies at my mom’s house and even visiting convalescent homes to minister to the people there.
Everyone loved having my Grandma around.
But no one loved her more than her grandchildren.
Any time Gabby would spend time at my mom’s house, the first thing she would do was run to her Oma’s room. She would lay on the bed while my Grandma knitted. My Grandma would tell her stories– mostly about when I was a little girl. My mom said she wouldn’t leave her room. She loved being around her, listening to her stories, or singing her songs.
The day before my Grandma passed away from cancer,we spent the entire day with her, in her bedroom. She wasn’t awake, but we explained to the kids that she could hear what they were saying. So, they sang songs to her, drew pictures for her, they told her their favorite memories with her. It was heartbreaking, beautiful.

After Oma passed away, I sat Gabby down to tell her the news.
I expected her to burst into tears, but she didn’t.
“I feel so sad, but I don’t feel any tears, mommy.”
I told her that she didn’t have to cry. That Oma knew she loved her and that’s all that mattered. ‘
***
A couple of days ago, Gabby climbed into bed with me early in the morning. She buried her face into my chest and started to cry.
“What’s wrong, baby girl?”
“I miss Oma so much!”
I held her close to me and cried with her.
The past few days, there is a sadness in her eyes. More than a month has passed and the reality is finally sinking in. She will never see her Oma again. And she misses her deeply.
Last night, she told me that she was going to write a letter to Oma, just like she did for Opa. She asked me how to spell Oma’s last name because she wanted to be sure that God knew which Wilma the letter was for when he gave it to her in heaven.

She asked if we could send the letter to heaven with balloons. I told her we absolutely could and would.
After school this afternoon, we stopped by a local party supply store and I let her pick out five balloons. She carefully chose each balloon.
“I want a black and white polka dot one because it looks like a shirt she used to wear to church. I want some with hearts because hearts stand for love and I loved her…”
When we returned home, we got the letter and headed outside.

We took a walk to the horse trails.

She found the spot where she wanted to let the balloons go.


Before she let go, she said a few heartfelt words to Oma. Then, she looked up to the sky and just let go.





I knelt down to hug her as we watched the balloons float away. She held onto me as we watched. As we walked away, we both kept our eyes glued to the sky. I held her hand and we walked slowly back home.
I told her that what she had done for her Oma truly touched my heart.
She looked at me and said these exact words.
“Mom, I just had to let go. I had to do it for my own freedom. Now, I feel entire joy!”
When we arrived home, she sat down in the driveway and watched until she couldn’t see the balloons anymore.