GREY MATTER LIFE

I’m not sure I’d really want an instruction book for life if one existed. The existence and possession of one would likely serve to only remind me of all the things that I’m failing at or doing wrong. Yet, there are times when having one to reference would, at the very least, be helpful.

Not too much gets me flustered, but I’ll admit that they boys persistent questions about Heaven does put me on edge.

I’m probably a little over-sensitive and paranoid about where these thoughts come from (read ‘The Letter’ )  and aside from the concept of my own mortality which doesn’t worry me much, the idea of my own child in Heaven does nothing but bring a flood of tears to my eyes and bring a deep ache to my heart. In the end, I always have to bring myself down to earth and focus back on reality, recognizing that deep down these are simply children with curiosity and questions. It’s all normal.

As we drove home yesterday from the park chatting away and listening to music in the car, conversation turned again toward the topic of Heaven.

“I miss Willy and Sophie. I want to seem them. “ Cooper said about two family dogs who passed away. “I can’t wait to go to Heaven and play with them again, I really miss them.”

Trying to respond cheerfully and not exhibit any sign of the immediate anguish that floods me about the concept of one of my children going to Heaven, I responded with:

“You know, they’re very happy in Heaven and God is taking really good care of them. You don’t need to be in a rush to see them in Heaven, there are so many great and exciting things to do here and remember, Toby, Tank and Lucky love playing with you everyday too. Willy and Sophie want you to be here with us for a long time before you play with them in Heaven.”  

“Mommy? Who feeds Willy and Sophie in Heaven and who’s going to give me my snacks and make me my meals when I’m in Heaven?”

Catching myself before saying that the task of cooking for him would all be mine, I had to think fast and figure something out he wouldn’t call bull shit on.

“God feeds all the animals and he’ll feed you too. He’s a really great chef and will know exactly what you like. It’ll all be fine. Just remember, you have plenty of time before God will be cooking for you, so for now, you’re stuck with me. Does that work?”

“As long as God shops at the same stores as you, I think it will taste good. Can I have a popsicle when we get home?”

Instruction book or not, I’m just making it up as I go along.