“I wish my brother and sister would come down from Heaven.”
It was a typical weekend morning. In the wee hours before daylight, my daughter nudged me gently. Groggy, I pulled back the sheets and let her crawl into bed with me and my husband. As the quiet morning gave way to chatter, my daughter nuzzled next to me.
“I love you Mommy and Daddy,” her sweet voiced filled the air.
Without skipping a beat, I replied, “I love you too.” As I thought of our sweet family, I squeezed my daughter’s hand. “I love you, Parker and Abby,” I said, thinking of two of my triplets in Heaven.
What came next, I wasn’t quite prepared for.
“I love Parker and Abby, too,” my daughter said. “When can we see them?”
I choked back the tears as I thought of this innocent question. My daughter, our lone surviving triplet, only knows her siblings through pictures and stories. Her identical sister died within two hours of birth, her brother passed away in the hospital about two months later.
On the outside, it looks like our daughter is an only child, but looks can be deceiving.
After a few moments of thinking, I wiped away my tears. “Parker and Abby are in Heaven,” I said quietly. “We might not be able to see them in front of us, but they are with us every single day. They watch over us and make sure that every day is a good day.”
My daughter nodded as she thought about what I said, a difficult concept for a 4-year-old to understand. “I wish Abby and Parker could come down from Heaven and play with me,” she pondered.
I looked over at my husband with tears streaming down my face. At this stage in life, I expected questions about Barbie dolls and the alphabet, not questions about life and death. But sometimes life isn’t fair. And this is a reality for those of us with children both here on earth and in Heaven.
I hugged my daughter tightly, unsure of what exactly to say. “I wish they could play with you, too,” I replied.
And with that, my daughter bounced out of bed, ready to watch her Saturday morning cartoons. My young, sweet daughter was completely unaware of the weight of our conversation…and for that I am grateful. Someday, she’ll have more questions. But for now, we simply look to Heaven and say thank you to Abby and Parker for watching over our family. I am sure they are playing along with Peyton up in Heaven.