A Wheelchair

Recently, M. and I were at Westminster picking up some things. We parked in back, and as we walked by a handicap parking sign, he said, "Mommy, remember when Daddy had one of those?" It took me a second, but realized he was talking about the wheelchair in the handicap symbol. I responded, "Yes, baby, I remember. Do you remember when Uncle Andy pushed Daddy in the wheelchair when we went on that long prayer walk with all our friends?" He nodded as though he remembered but quickly got distracted by a worm. I thought that was it, but a minute later as we climbed the back steps of WCA, he asked, "Mommy, did Daddy die in a hospital?" I choked back the lump in my throat and said, "Yes, actually in an emergency room," which he's been in before for stitches and nursemaid's elbow. "So, he died in an 'mergency room?" I could hear the wheels spinning like mad. "Yes, M, and then he went to heaven to be with Jesus." With that answer, M quickly responded with his own theology, "Mommy, I think when we go to heaven, we can then come back to earth and play."