She took my daughter’s hand and placed a book in it. The book was Blow Away Soon by Betsy James. After reading the book, we built and decorated our own blow-away-soon. We’ve since moved back to Virginia, and my daughter is now a teen. She may think she’s too cool to decorate one with her mom now, but she’s held onto the book. Who knows, maybe one day she’ll build a blow-away-soon with her own children and tell them the following story.

We climb and climb, until the sky is wide all over. There’s nothing here- just air and that’s what wind is made of.
Nana says, “Sophie, can you find a good big stone?”
“Here’s one.”
“Perfect. Now put another stone on top of it. Then another, and another. Build it tall.”
“Is that all?” I ask. “That’s a blow-away-soon? That’s easy.”
“The hard part’s this,” says Nana. “You have to ask yourself: What shall I give the the wind for her to blow away?”

Sophie places grass, sand and a feather on the blow-away-soon.

“Is that everything?” asks Nana.
I put my hand in my pocket. I uncurl my fingers. The shell is cool and small.
“I could give her this,” I say.
But I don’t want to. It’s my shell. It’s all that’s left of an old sea.
The wind blows. Nana puts her arms around me.
“Sophie,” she says, “some things blow away, but some things stay. Some things are to let go of, but others are to keep for a long time.”
I look down at the shell in my hand.
Nana asks, “Is there anything you’d like to keep even more than that shell?”
“You,” I say. “I want you to live forever.”
I put my shell on the blow-away-soon. “The wind can have that,” I say.