In Pursuit of Heaven

I have written, deleted and re-written this post three times already. Apparently tonight I just don't know how to say what I want to say. I've got all kinds of thoughts and feelings racing through my brain, but it seems that they're too big, or too disorganized to be expressed in any kind of coherent form. I'm frustrated.

I went out to Everett's garden tonight with Avery. While she played I took pictures, some of her, and some of the garden which is growing quite nicely, its overflowing the tiny perimeter we gave it and spilling out to the yard, its really pretty. Nestled in the over growth is the tiny angel statue we bought to represent Everett in his garden. Its quite photogenic, but a poor stand in for the real thing. In cases like tonight, when I'm looking for Everett wherever I can find him, it'll do.




I have to say, it takes a pretty picture. Its sweet, and soft and represents what we all hope for as parents who have said goodbye to their babies, who have held them after they breathed their last breaths, and who have attended their own child's funeral. A baby snuggled peacefully in angels wings, safe and happy in a beautiful afterlife. Heaven.

From now until the day I die, I'll be in pursuit of Heaven, and what this benign little statue promises. My baby safely held, until I can be with him again. I'll do all it takes to ensure a reunion, so that one day I won't have to be satisfied with representations, likenesses, mementos, and memories.

I've deleted and re-written this post over and over, and tried repeatedly to word my thoughts appropriately, I feel I've still been unsuccessful, so maybe I'm not ready to say what I think I need to say tonight.

When Everett died, and I sat holding him in the hospital's family room, before I needed to leave and go back to my new life, I was consumed by the "goneness" of him. Being angry with God was short lived phase in my life that ultimately led to an incredible bloom of faith which as provided me with amazing comfort and hope. Everett no longer seems "gone" in the same sense because I now feel confidant I know where he is. Faith and some education on the matter of Heaven have made me feel secure in that I know how to get there one day, and I can hope and believe in a reunion with him some day.

Hope and faith and thoughts of Heaven have helped grind down the edges of my grief, the pain is duller, and less acute when I keep my thoughts focused on one truth, our goodbye was not permanent, and I'll hold Everett again in Heaven.

So from now on, I'll live my life in the pursuit of Heaven.

Katie