Conversations between brothers. Deep into the night.
I hear the unmistakable stomp of little three-year-old-feet. Accompanied by the tell-tale whine from the lungs they carry. I am tucked in my room, working on lofty ideas, as I perk ears and listen to the story unfold. Quinn's tiny three year old voice sobbing to his daddy, "I don't WANT to go to heaven! [sob] It's FAR! I don't want to go all by myself! [sob] Gabe said I have to believe in Jesus to go to heaven, and I DON'T! Because I don't WANT to GO!" Scared, crying. I hear deep man chords, response jumpled together and words unintelligible. And then the sounds of clomping feet back to bed. Soothed. Followed by methodical man steps that stop at my door.
Leaning in the doorway, my husband questions if I've been listening to the discussions taking place in the room next door. I hadn't been. He alerts me that there are discussions happening in the boys' room. Deep. Profound. I set aside my planner to eavesdrop.
Gabe: "So, Quinn, in 97 years, remember that, and you'll go to heaven. And for me, 94 years. For Tennyson, 100 years. Just believe in Jesus, and you'll go to heaven with me, and mom and dad, and Tennyson, and James and Marcea, and Pastor Dave..."
Quinn: "I'm going to look around da room and see if dare's a clock. And if dare's not a clock, I'll ask Jesus to bring us a clock. [quiet contemplation]... Is dare a stove in heaven? Oderwise we have to ask Jesus for one. Or, ....we can't have pizza. Can you make pizza wit-out a stobe?"
Quinn: "I think dere's not a stobe, because you have to bring your stuffed animals."
Gabe explains: "You can't bring those. God's probably making them for us right now..."
[they discuss items that God is making for their special home in heaven. I am smiling and scribbling all of this down on a piece of looseleaf paper which I silently snatched from my binder, not wanting to forget any of this...scribbling and smiling and careening my ear...]
Quinn: "I think I'll fall."
Gabe: "God will help us. You won't fall."
Quinn "Is there going to be a bridge??" [still wrapping his little mind around the concept of being in the sky, and logistically how this will work for him]
Gabe gets back to the point: "So, do you believe in God and Jesus?"
Quinn, now irritated: "Ya. I TOLD you dat THREE times. You can't ASK me dat!! Da limit's two!!"
and then sweetly... "Gabe, if we don't go in the morning, we're not going to go."
Gabe, "Well, your going in 97 years...."