Blow Away Soon – Life lessons

This is a “blow away soon” that my daughter built for me a couple of years ago. You may be wondering what a blow away soon is, so I’ll share our story with you. Keep in mind that the true sense of one is different for everyone.

When my daughter was four, we moved up to New Hampshire from a large metro area near Washington D.C. And what a dramatic change that was. Every day I could feel my shoulders loosening a little more, and my stride becoming slower. Soon I was walking for enjoyment… not rushing to get somewhere or racing to beat someone.

It felt like we had entered an older, almost magical world, and I guess we had. For the first time, since my husband and I were children, we were living in nature instead of viewing it in planned communities that stretch forever.

Every weekend and evening we would go exploring, and on our hikes we’d come across stacks of balanced rocks. Sometimes there would be little treasures tucked in among the crannies. A feather, colorful pebbles, flowers, or scarlet and gold leaves in the autumn.

We would ask people what they meant, but no one seemed to know the story behind them. Then one rainy afternoon we discovered a little book shop that was housed in a lovely old colonial home. We wandered around, and while we did, we started talking about the rocks again.

An elderly woman came up to us and placed a book in my daughter’s hand. The book was Blow Away Soon by Betsy James. She explained that some people call these stone sculptures cairns, but they would always be a Blow Away Soon to her.

My daughter and I both enjoyed reading the book, and we went back a week later to pick up more. I asked about the older woman, hoping that she might steer us to other stories. The owner said that she didn’t have anyone on staff like that, and it didn’t sound like anyone she knew in their small town. As I said… a place of magic.

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.

My daughter is 20 years older, but she’s held onto this book and still builds blow away soons. Who knows. Maybe one day she’ll build them with her own children, and she’ll tell them this story.