Good night, Uncle Jonathan

Last night was a classic south Georgia night - heat lightening flashing all around us, thunder rumbling off in the distance, and hot humid air so still and thick you could slice right through it. We were all sitting around outside visiting, anxious for any little breeze that might come our way. This has become our tradition since we arrived in Georgia. The visitors have all gone to their own homes now, leaving myself, my daughter, my husband, his mother, and his grandparents here. We find ourselves outside most of the time, even with this oppressive heat, because I think we are all searching for some peace. We'll take every little bit we can get, and peace seems to come from the outdoors these days.
Last night, my daughter disappeared for a few minutes and returned with the pink balloon she got at lunch and something tied to the bottom of it. It was a piece of tissue, and she had written her Uncle Jonathan a note. She said she wanted to tell him goodnight, so she was sending it up to him. The balloon had lost most of its helium, and we were so worried it wouldn't go. She walked around looking for the perfect spot, then turned it loose. There was absolutely no wind, but that balloon took off. It disappeared so quickly.
Several hours later, we were heading to bed. She had been asleep for a while, and my husband and I were walking a few yards away from where the balloon was released. Out of nowhere, it reappeared and smacked him in the head. Classic Jonathan. You can't tell me he didn't get that note and use the balloon to mess with his brother one more time.
Wherever you are Jonathan, I hope you're happy. You are missed, and we love you. And we heard you loud and clear. :-)