The Birthday Balloon

On my 16th birthday, 5 years after my grandfather had died, I was actually living in his house at the time. I was upstairs in my room, talking to my best friend, Sandy, on the phone. My mother had sent me a basket of flowers with a shiny silver balloon that read "Happy 16!!!" on one side and was blank on the other. I had left the arrangement down stairs in the kitchen.

While I was talking, my silver balloon drifted past my bedroom door. I commented on it to Sandy, thinking nothing of it. A few seconds later, it happened again, drifting the other way down the hall. I, again, told Sandy of the occurrance. I told myself (and Sandy) aloud that, being summer and all the doors and windows were open, the circulating air caused my balloon to climb the staircase and float back and forth down the hall.

Suddenly, the balloon appeared in my doorway, with the blank side facing me. It slowly entered my room, drifted to my bed and parked itself inches from my face. It then flipped around to reveal the "Happy 16!!!" message and promptly left my room. I still chalked it up to the air flow and laughed about it with Sandy, jokingly saying "I think my grandfather just wished me a happy birthday!"

Some time later, I hung up the phone, walked down stairs for a snack and saw my balloon, still tied to the basket of flowers.