On September 6th when our family tried to figure out how and what to do for Aaron's birthday one little girl noticed something was wrong.
My niece Alicia, all of six, said, "This is the saddest birthday party I've ever been to."
"Yeah," was all I could say as we sat together in front of his urn and flowers.
Then she asked, "Where's Aaron? Isn't he coming?"
"No honey, he's not here."
"Where is he?"
"He's in Heaven."
"When do I get to go to Heaven?"
"When God comes to get you."
"Oh, I wish He'd make it soon. I miss Aaron and Cathy and Maryla. I told Aaron to watch for Smudge so she won't be alone and he can take care of her."
"Thanks, honey. I miss him, too."
The powerful innocence of one so young. Our talk grabbed my gut in a whole new way. I, too, was wishing Aaron was here or I was with him in Heaven. It is not well with my soul that he's away from us. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad he's in Heaven and not in Hell. The separation from him is at times unbearable.
I pray for the day when we will meet again. When his blue eyes will greet me with sparkling joy. And he'll run to me and I to him with God saying, "Welcome home." I miss him so much...
