“Mom, I know how Dad is going to die.”

“...Spiritually defining memories from our book of life are like luminous stones that help brighten the road ahead.” 

-Neil L. Anderson. 

This post is a stone I want to retrieve from my pocket and hold over and over again.

Several months ago I was approached by the red headed, freckle faced, 5 year old.  Munching my lunch, I got this comment: 

“Mom, I know how Dad is going to die.”
 “Really?” I replied. “How?”

“You know, like on Minions. Yep, that’s how Dad is going to die.”

The first thing that came to my mind was little yellow creatures holding freeze ray lasers, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t freeze ray that would be taking his Dad out.”

“You know Buddy, I really don’t remember Minions very well.  How is Dad going to die?”

“You know,” using gestures because Minions wasn’t ringing a bell for me.  “When people die, they put them in a... suitcase. It can open and close.  Ya, that is how Dad is going to die.”

“Ahhhh!”  The light bulb went off in my momma mind.    “Some people call those a casket, but you are 100% correct.  When Dad dies, we are going to put him in a suitcase and send him right back to Heavenly Father.”

They will never again be caskets in my heart, only heaven bound suitcases.

Fast forward a few weeks and we took a trip to Idaho.  I was lying on the bed next to Jonathan listening to his ventilator hum as the cool Idaho air flowed in the window.  I could hear my littles tromping down the stairs giddy with the smell of breakfast cooking.  I didn’t budge.  I knew Grandma and Grandpa had the morning covered.  It felt sooooo good to be home.  It felt celestial to be in my parents presence, familiar and peaceful, it was home.

As I laid there loving so much the feeling of being home, I was overcome with joy at the thought of Jonathan returning to our heavenly home. Just like squealing kids packing their suitcase with exuberant excitement for a trip, so will Jonathan’s journey home be for him.  Whenever we have traveled near or far, he has always been the first one in the motel room opening and exploring every door or drawer, reading every pamphlet and soaking in his surroundings.  My mind saw him racing through heaven leaving no stone unturned to see what had changed since the last time he had been there.  I laid there next to him crying and laughing because I was so excited for his adventure when his “suitcase” was packed and he was headed home and how good it would feel!

I don’t anticipate that moment is coming any too soon, thank heavens.  But when it does, I hope I can put my hand in my pocket and wrap my hand around this luminous stone.  And with the joy I felt in that moment, embrace the brightened path that will carry me to the time that I pack my own suitcase, and go home to join him.