A story that you may need tissues to read.
A couple of months ago a mother and her 8 year old son moved to this town. About 3 weeks ago the little boy was killed in a house fire and last week I heard that his mother had committed suicide, maybe because she couldn't cope with the loss of her son.
At lunch time today, I drove past the main church and the little boy's funeral was taking place. A pale blue coffin with a few mourners, who I expect were close family, but why was the town high street full of people clutching helium filled balloons. There must have been 300 people from the town, who had gone to say farewell to the boy and I assume the balloons were significant to him.
I haven't been able to stop tears trickling down my face since, even though I didn't know the boy or his mum.
I don't believe in life after death, but I really hope I am wrong, because I would love to think that this little boy and his mum have been reunited.