On Heaven

Logan and I talk about death a lot.  For a while in the spring he was really obsessed with it.  Worried about where he would live in heaven, what it would be like, who would take care of him, what he would look like, what his name would be there.  Lots of questions and lots of discussions, mostly at bedtime.

This summer my mom's dog passed away, so we talked a bit more about death.  Logan decided, after much deliberation, that dogs don't go to regular heaven.  They go to their own heaven.  It's called "Doggy Dead Place", he informed me, but it's much nicer than it sounds.  They have lots of treats and can meet their owners in real heaven on occasion.

Then this fall he woke up in the middle of the night sobbing.  I finally got out of him that he'd had a nightmare.  I told him we should talk about it so we could figure out how to help him feel better.  He was resolute that we not discuss it.  He cried and cried and cried some more.  Then he relented.

He had dreamed that I died.  And it made him so, so sad.  He doesn't ever want to live without me, he said, and the dream really shook him up.  I thought for a minute, then I asked him if my dad is young or old.  "Old?" he said cautiously.  "Yeah," I told him. (Sorry dad!)  "Papa is old, and guess what? His mom, Grandma Pansy, is still alive! So you don't have to worry about me dying. I am healthy, I don't smoke, I always go to the doctor... So I'm not going anywhere any time soon."

I also reminded him that when people die it's sad for us, because we miss them, but it's okay for them, because they get to go to heaven, meet God and see all their loved ones who have passed away before them.  It just breaks my heart that he worries about it like he does.

We got to talking about pacifiers one day, the boys and I, and Logan asked why they sent their binkies up in the sky, and Wyatt didn't.  I told them that they got to send theirs up with balloons because we were in the city, and here in Marshall we don't have helium balloons.  Logan said that he thought maybe we should have sent Wyatt's in the sky because then it gets to heaven for all the babies who are there, like Daddy's baby sister. 

Then he said, "Well, maybe you can fill my pockets with binkies when I die.  Then when I get there, I can give them to Margaret and all the other dead babies."  I teared up and nodded.  What else could I do?  This boy is just so tender.