'I Don't Want To Die'

I'd just tucked Luke into bed last night and went into my bedroom to set my alarm clock when I heard the little sniffle from the hallway.  

Luke came in, tears in his big, brown eyes. 

"What's wrong, Lukey?" I asked, all having been well when he got into his bunk bed moments before.

"I don't want to die," he sobbed. 

I pulled him into my lap on my big bed and we started talking about Heaven, Jesus and that he was going to live a full life. He calmed down quickly and then snuggled into my arms. 

We laid down and within minutes, he was asleep in my arms. 

Just like when he was a baby. 

Luke was my cuddle kid. Pretty much from the day he was born, when he slept on my chest all night long where I could hold him close and marvel at the miracle of him, Luke wanted to be held. By me. I wore him in a sling forever, because he was happiest pressed up close against me. 

He slept with me for months after he was born. Largely because he wanted to eat every 90 minutes and I was too exhausted to get up and walk across the house to his nursery. So that's how he slept, pressed up against me. 

Now he's 7. He kind of ducks his head when he comes out of school, but still accepts a kiss on the top of his sweet blond head. But at home, he'll do "squishy," which is our version of a big, all encompassing bear hug.

So last night, when my sweet angel baby fell asleep in my arms, it did feel a lot like Heaven.