A balloon drifts away in the sky and somewhere a child is crying. That’s the old saying anyway. Higher and higher it goes up into the sky. What does this represent? Life drifting away from us perhaps, our remaining time getting smaller and smaller; the sand slipping through the hourglass? Or is it friends who we were so close to at one time drifting away from us as we forge our own lives; people that we thought would be forever close who are now far, far away? Or do we marvel at the freedom of the balloon floating across the sky, untethered and just drifting at the whim of the winds? Now we can no longer see the balloon. It is gone from our vision. We have only our memories left and even our memories will evaporate like April’s snow on the sidewalk.