When I was 12 my amazing grandma passed away. Truly, this was one of the most incredible women I've ever known in my life. Every year since then we've had a tradition to write her notes, tie them to balloons, and send them to her up in heaven. 14 years in a row now! Well, Monday was her birthday. Aaron had the day off work and we had about a hundred things to do (I exaggerate only slightly). I had Grandma's balloons on my list of things we absolutely must get done but by the time I got to that point on my list the flower/balloon shop had already closed. Normally this wouldn't be so dramatic but since I've got all these extra hormones coursing through my body I couldn't take it. I had a little melt down over how horrible I was that I couldn't remember the ONE thing I really wanted to do that day and how I had failed. After a few crazy-lady tears Aaron told me we could send off balloons Tuesday because it would still be Monday in the States so it would still count. Leave it to my wonderful husband to save the day. The minute Aaron got off work Tuesday we ran to the store, bought balloons, wrote her Happy Birthday notes, and sent them off into the air. Seriously, we didn't even drive home. It was so windy that the balloons were gone almost immediately but it made me feel so happy inside that we'd upheld our tradition. As it turns out, my family back in the States hadn't been able to send off balloons either. Apparently there's a helium shortage in Utah (who ever heard of that?) and there were no balloons to be found. But they tried. And I tried. And even though Aaron, Baby Girl, and I were the only ones who managed to actually send the balloons off to heaven, I'm sure Grandma knew we were thinking of her and celebrating her special day.