bobby remsnyder

Bobby's Balloons

 "HELD ON TIGHTLY AS YOU HELD ONTO ME
AND I BUILT A HOME FOR YOU, FOR ME,   
UNTIL IT DISAPPEARED FROM ME FROM YOU."
the cinematic orchestra
 photo bobbys_balloons9of41.jpg
If you've been around the past few you months, you know the intersecting stories of Bobby, Ryan and TinyBaby.  Three best friends pregnant at the same time with three buddies.  Two gone before their time.  Janet's Bobby was due on August 20 (which happens to be my birthday -- weirdly enough my Ryan passed away on the day Bobby was delivered.  Dates are eerie sometimes.)  On his would-be birthday, we gathered together to send balloons to heaven.  Watching them wag away made me want to jump on top and take a ride.  Go a little higher.  Be a little nearer.  We sniffled as two parents with an extra spot on their laps soberly celebrated their son.  Caleb played violin and the light, bright with glory, appeared over the hill.
 photo bobbys_balloons36of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons34of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons5of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons3of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons2of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons4of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons6of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons8of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons10of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons17of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons18of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons13of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloon_day5of20.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons14of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloon_day7of20.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloon_day2of20.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons16of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons22of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloon_day12of20.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons21of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons24of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons25of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons26of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons27of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons23of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons28of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloon_day17of20.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons37of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons33of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons29of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloon_day18of20.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons32of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloon_day19of20.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons35of41.jpg
Working through grief isn't something to get over, like a bridge.  It's a thing to get through, like a river.  You're in it forever, but this ain't no lazy-pool with an inner tube (those days are gone).  The swim is a fight, especially when your toes can't reach the bottom and it's so cold and you're already beat up.  Grief can make your heart feel like a juicy orange, peeled of it's flesh, torn at it's soft spots, left in the desert sun to crackle and dry up.  You can become crispy and weak, like burned food -- smoking in a demonstrative attempt to breathe.

But Keep Going sneaks up on you, and gives you some flippers.  It can't pull you out -- not yet, someday -- but it can help.  The golden cobblestone of heaven can be paved above your head, your very own eyeballs can witness a rose-colored world (without glasses) and the majesty can almost seem as cozy as a soft old blanket on the couch.  Hope has a way of finding us, and reminding "You are not forgotten.  Look, I'm writing it across the whole sky tonight.  I love you."
 photo bobbys_balloons38of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons40of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons39of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons41of41.jpg
 photo bobbys_balloons42of41.jpg
It was as if we were getting a message from my Mama Bear that the blue and orange balloons had made it safe and sound, just as we will someday too.


I love you Janet, Seth, Audrey, Edith and Bobby Boy.  Each and every one.