Forever

He comes to me, pajama-clad, the swagger of a ten-year-old on top of the world... gone.  His lower lip quivers as he asks if he can have a chat with me.

Warm from my recent bath and ready to call it a night, I invite him into my room and listen as he relays his fears.

Heaven.  He whispers.  It's... forever?

I nod.

And wait.

His mind falters, and his words convey the awe and hopelessness of such a concept.

I can't imagine being in one place for so long.  Where there's... nothing else. Nothing more.  That's it.

And his eyes widen in fear.

I smile to myself.  How many times have I approached my own father throughout the years, paralyzed by such a concept.  Unable to wrap my mortal mind around the approaching infinity.  Unwilling to believe that joy could be associated with such an end.

I gather him into my arms.

Our life here, I whisper into his mop of blond, what do you think of it?  Would you like things always to be this way?  With you, and Mom and Dad... living in this house... together.  Would you like that to last forever?

His tender heart of 10 glows and his eyes sparkle as he looks up at me and nods emphatically.

So, I continue, think of Heaven as this.  As our life together here... but forever.  Everything you love, surrounding you...  and you... continuously happy and filled with unimaginable joy.  No more tears, scrapes or falls.  Only happiness.

He sighs and settles into my arms.

But then he stiffens...  We just need to make it there.

And that, I say firmly, is what we will do... together.

So we sit, rocking back and forth, a tangle of ten-year old arms, sweet boy-hair and a melting Mama-heart.

And I can't help but think... forever isn't nearly long enough.