Parenting, Writing
Comments 6

On Heaven

light angels wings god fly heaven angel wings_wallpaperwind.com_79Heaven is a dilemma for the human mind.

Not for the human heart, though.

In the weeks following Georgie’s death I couldn’t allow myself to imagine heaven as I knew my imagination, even my wildest imaginations, could not do it justice. My heart had this deep and intricate and intimate perception of what heaven looks like but my brain, my inner eye couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t “see” it.

Go on Google and type in “heaven images” and you will understand what I mean. Your soul will be totally dissatisfied with the images it sees because it knows that heaven cannot be rendered in images. Its magnificence and glory cannot be portrayed by any drawing.

Have I told you before that on the night Georgie died, the very moment he transitioned from this earth to the heavenly realm, I heard almost audible clapping?

You can call me delusional or grief-stricken or plain exhausted but I know in my heart, in my spirit, that Heavens were roaring with cheering and clapping when my baby boy entered Heaven.

I know that he was welcomed by his Father and told: “Well done, baby boy, well done.”

Well done for living to the full. For bringing so much joy to your mama. For loving so much from such a tiny heart. For taking almost everything that came your way with a big smile. For showing everybody how life is meant to be lived.

Following Georgie’s non-healing, his suffering and his death, I was left with questions. So many questions.

One that kept coming to my mind was: “How does he look like now?”

I know that the body I loved so much, his tiny little frame is no longer. I made my mind accept this reality very early on.

But I guess my heart needed to know how “the real Georgie”, as Emma puts it so beautifully, is.

So last week, during one of my morning walks, I asked God.

And He answered.

He said: “He is both.”

He is both innocent, just like he used to be as a sweet baby but his soul is aware of where he is and fully capable of worship and praise.

He is both the smiling, gurgling, inquisitive boy I came to adore but also a mighty soul, lifting the heaven’s lid with the strength of his praise and adoration.

He is both gentleness of spirit and strength of character.

I still don’t understand. Why the ultimate sacrifice had to be made. Why not “only” illness. Why not “only” disability but actually death.

Death is so…final. So…devastating.

All I know (and this coming from the heart of a Father who lost His son too), is that the pain of the whole experience could not be diluted this time. There was no negotiation to be done. Only the ultimate finality satisfied in this case.


I still don’t know…

Until my final day, my only option remains…to imagine.

To imagine in my heart how things will be like in eternity.

How that first hug will feel like.

How that first week in heaven will be spent.


  1. This brought a tear to my eye. I love your perspective, and how you’ve come to realize that he is both: both innocent, and yet beyond anything we would know or could describe. I love how he was welcomed home with I would imagine a standing ovation, for loving so much and living so full.

  2. prayingformyrainbow says

    I love this post. Thank you for sharing. It’s so strange.. the dichotomy that our babies now are.. not baby, but soul, and yet both. You explained it so well. I still picture Anneliese as a baby, but yet sometimes I wonder what she will look like when I see her again. When I had surgery just 3 weeks after her death, I awoke from anesthesia knowing her spirit had been with me, and she was a spirit, not a baby. If it had been a dream, I would have thought of her as a baby, not as a spirit/adult type form. I can’t explain what she was. And there should be no dreams under anesthesia anyways.

    • I have been praying recently for dreams of Georgie in heaven. I do so feel the need to “see” him and know how he looks like now. Big hugs.xx

    • But it doesn’t take our pain away. I am at the anger stage now, missing Georgie and what he should have been in our family fiercely. The road ahead is tough, I am here as a shoulder to cry on and a mummy who understands it all too well.xx

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