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Click Here To Listen to "Never Walk Alone"

To My Son, Kris

I Wish Heaven Had Telephones

I wish heaven had telephones.
Then I could call my son and
make sure he was O.K.
Oh, I already know in my heart
that Heaven is where he went,
but I really do need to talk to him.
I would ask him if he heard me say
"I love you" and
"It is O.K. for you to let go",
as he lay there in the
hospital's intensive care unit.

I might even want to talk to God
and ask if He is taking good care of my Kris.
Oh, I know how selfish that sounds.
Who am I to question how God
cares for His loving children.

I guess that is just part of being a mother.
I protected Kris, as much as I could
while he was here on earth, and
I still want to be sure
things are O.K. in heaven.

I miss rubbing his back and
running my fingers through his hair.
I miss listening to his stories
when he got home from work.
I guess I even miss his bitching,
moaning and complaining
that he wasn't treated like an adult.

It is hard for me to remember
that Kris is better off than I am.
He doesn't have to stand out in the cold
at night working on the ramp.
His Iroc won't leave him
stuck in the snow and ice.
He must be glad that he never again will
pay taxes, or go to the dentist.

He is at peace up in heaven,
watching over all of us.
I bet that he flies in every
airplane and helicopter,
whenever he wants to,
and proud that he never buys a ticket.

He now can find the places
with the best snow for skiing.
By now, he surely has
bowled that perfect game.
And it is certain that his work
as someone's guardian angel
is where the weather is very warm.

While on earth he loved to fish,
now he can swim with the dolphins.
He loved to fly his remote planes,
now he can soar along side eagles.

Kris will always be a part of me.
I feel his presence every day.
When the leaves blow gently in the breeze,
I bet it is Kris up there
stretched across a cloud
weaving his fingers through the branches.

When I feel the heat
of the sun upon my face,
I bet it is the reflection
of his smile
that makes me warm.

Somedays, I too am at peace.
But I still wish
there were telephones up in heaven.
©Maxine Urton



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