Another month. Nine in all. Today, I remembered holding him for the last time. I remembered the questions my heart asked.
In disbelief I looked at him and thought, how did you suddenly slip away? How did your precious spirit leave your body? In my heartbreak, I didn’t understand how he could leave, because I felt as though I was dying, but my body couldn’t and wouldn’t release me.
I looked at my son, my precious baby who had only just come to us from above and realized, he was so fresh from heaven that he recognized it and accepted going home.
I could finally see that I have feared death because I have been separated from heaven and have forgotten what awaits at the end of this life. Having been in the world so long, I’ve fought against death for I feel unworthy to ever return because my sin separates me from God, even though I know the price has been paid.
In that moment of profound grief, I knew and understood Silas was okay and heaven felt so very real, so very close, and so very attainable for the first time in my life.
My son was braver than I. With the spiritual purity of a child, he recognized home. That day, my son taught me not to fear death. He showed me that heaven’s doors are wide open.