Question

求翻译，要语句通顺

Each time I see a balloon, my mind flies back to a memory of when I was a six-year-old girl. It was a rainy
Sunday and my father had recently died. I asked my mom if Dad had gone to heaven. "Yes, honey. Of course." she said.
"Can we write him a letter?"
She paused, the longest pause of my short life, and answered, "Yes."
My heart jumped. "How? Does the mailman go there?" I asked.
"No, but I have an idea." Mom drove to a party store and returned with a red balloon. I asked her what it was for.
"Just wait, honey. You'll see." Mom told me to write my letter. Eagerly, I got my favorite pen, and poured out my six-year-old heart in the form of blue ink. I wrote about my day, what I learned at school, how Mom was doing, and even about what happened in a story I had read. For a few minutes it was as if Dad were still alive. I gave the letter to Mom. She read it over, and a smile crossed her face.
She made a hole in the corner of the letter where she looped the balloon string. We went outside and she gave me the balloon. It was still raining.
"Okay, on the count of three, let go. One, two, three."
The balloon, carrying my letter, darted upward against the rain. We watched until it was swallowed by the mass of clouds.
Later I realized, like the balloon, that Dad had never let his sickness get him down. He was strong. No matter what he suffered, he'd persevere, dart up, and finally transcend this cold world and his sick body. He rose into sky and became something beautiful. I watched until the balloon disappeared into the gray and white and I prayed that his strength was hereditary. I prayed to be a balloon

Answer 1

每次看到气球，我的脑海就会浮现回到一段回忆，那时我还是个6岁大的女孩，那是一个阴雨的星期天，我的爸爸刚去世不久。我问妈妈爸爸是不是到了天堂，她说：“当然是的，宝贝。”
“我可以给他写一封信吗？”
她停顿住了，在我不长的人生里最长的一个停顿。然后回答：“可以。”
我的心都要跳出来了，“怎么做？有邮递员到那里吗？”我问。
“没有，但是我有个主意。”妈妈开车到派对店，回来时带了一个红色的气球，我问她那是干什么用的。“宝贝，等一下你就知道了。”妈妈叫我去写信，怀着渴望的心情我拿出最喜欢的笔，把我6岁的的心情以蓝色墨水的形式倾吐出来。我写了我的一天，我在学校学了什么，妈妈做了什么，甚至写了我读到的故事里发生了什么。那一瞬间，似乎爸爸还活在世上。我把信交给妈妈，她读了一遍，脸上闪过一丝微笑。她在信的一角穿了一个洞，把气球打结绑住。我们走到外面她把气球给我，外面依然下雨。“好了，数三声就放手，一、二、三。”气球带着我的信，迎着雨水猛的往上飘。我们看着直到气球被云层吞没。后来我意识到，像气球一样，爸爸从来没有被病痛击倒，他是坚强的，无论承受了多少痛苦，他不屈不挠，屹立不倒，然后他终于超越了这个冰冷的世界和他患病的身体。他飞升到天空里，变成了一些漂亮的东西，我注视着直到气球消失在灰白色的云层里，然后我祈祷他的力量能传承给我，我祈祷自己变成一个气球。
ps：翻译完心都软了，挺感人的故事·········