Henry gave a brief, excellent lesson on the plan of salvation for family night yesterday. Dutch was stuck at work. Charlie asked about what heaven is like. We left to get ice cream.
The drive-through line took ten minutes. Jack fell apart after five minutes. He threw a cup of water across the car. It splashed against the dashboard.
Henry was in charge, deflecting blows, blocking Jack from climbing in the backseat and hurting his brothers, stopping Jack from hitting his head against the window.
It was clearly a little ugly, but Henry did so great. The little boys did so great. Collectively, we stayed calm and projected calm for Jack, who went from lashing out to crying. Henry gave Jack a hug. I patted his leg and told him it would be okay.
I asked him to say “sorry.” He said it. I handed him his fries. The boys got their ice cream. I got my ice water (mom life). Everything was fine.
As we drove home Charlie asked, “Does Jack freak out because he doesn’t understand?”
“Yes,” I said.
“When he gets to heaven, will Jacky understand?” Charlie wondered aloud, at which point I knew that Charlie is listening. All the time. Even when he doesn’t seem to be.
“Yes, he will. In heaven, Jacky will understand and be able to talk and not hurt anyone,” I told Charlie.
And then this came out before I even knew it was coming. “When Jack is in heaven, he will tell you boys ‘Thank you.'”
“He will say ‘Thank you for being my brother, even though it was hard.'”
And my eyes filled up because I knew it.
That someday moment. There is beauty in the anticipation.