On Death and Heaven

My daughter is very curious. She's been asking me questions since she could talk, but lately, these questions have gotten more real and the topics have become more serious. One morning on the way to school, she blindsided me with a very loaded question.

When I die, will I go to heaven and see Jesus? I told her yes. We've had the conversation before on why heaven is special and what it takes to go to heaven. She continued:

Will you die before me? Yes, I will. I hope so. 

Will I die before you? No, you won't. 

After you die, and then Tristan and I die, we will go find you in heaven. She made it sound like such a matter-of-fact order of events that would happen. She also made it sound like it would happen instantly, like we would all die together and find each other in heaven. 

The bond these two share is quite something. 

I kept my answers short. There wasn't any way I could elaborate more and enunciate my answers aloud while driving my children to school. There were silent tears streaming down my face. 

During these moments, I have to remind myself that my children don't see things the way I do. They don't attach emotions to situations the way I do because they haven't reached that point in maturity or development. They ask questions as questions to ask. The unfortunate part is it triggers so many emotions within myself regarding my experiences, my past, and the future I hope my children do not have to experience. 

***

Within the same week, we had another conversation on the way to school. I took a different route than usual because of changing traffic patterns. We passed a cemetery.

Mommy, is this where dead people are? Yes.

Where are they? They're buried under the ground.

How? You have to dig holes.

Oh.

And as abruptly as the conversation started, it ended. What my daughter doesn't know is that I know someone buried at that cemetery. And one of these days, I need to go and see her.

I want to answer her questions truthfully and I want her to continue asking me questions like this for the rest of her life. But they will always hold a weight for me that she can't see. These are the moments I never anticipated or planned for, but I am now discovering and accepting as they come. I always knew my life would be a little harder than most. But I didn't actually know how hard it could be. Until now.