Families are Eternal

Our first grandchild was born twenty two years ago yesterday. A grandson. His name is Samuel Raymond Daniel Burgess.

He didn’t stay here very long, only a few days. His destiny was different than many of ours. His was to gain a body and belong to a family. He accomplished both of those and then went back to heaven. I like to think he interacted with our other grandchildren before they left their heavenly home, and that he currently enjoys the company of his several great grandparents and a favourite uncle who live there now too.

We think of him often and wonder what life is like where he lives, but we never wonder IF he lives. We appreciate this week especially. It was a difficult time for his young mom and dad, but at the same time it was a privilege. Some babies are just like that. Spirits too special to stay here.

I have a stone from his grave displayed on a shelf in my living room. Its been there these 22 years. I have his name written on it and his birth date and death date. I called it Samuel’s rock. When his younger sister was little I would ask her from time to time (wanting to remind her about heaven and angels and such) “Olivia, where is Samuel?” She would go and get the rock.

I would say “No, this is a rock. Samuel lives in heaven.”

Then a few days later I would ask her again “Where is Samuel Olivia?” She would go and get the rock, and I would repeat “No, this is a rock. Samuel lives in heaven.”

And so it would go, eventually I hoped to solicit a response like “Samuel lives in heaven.”

One day I asked “Olivia, where is Samuel?”

She responded dismissively “Oh, he’s a rock.” 😂 I decided to wait a few months before we revisited the concept. 🙂

She and her younger siblings have it down pat by now. 😉 They get it. They know exactly where he is, and even all the cousins know about their older cousin who none of them met (at least not here). How grateful I am that families are eternal and that we know Samuel is not lost to us, and we’re not lost to him.

We are family. And that means, that through the atonement of Jesus Christ, we can live together again as families.

In the meantime, Happy 22th Birthday Sammy. If you were here, I have no doubt you’d laugh a lot with your younger siblings. They’re a hoot. But perhaps you chuckle with them even now, from your current vantage point. And probably roll your eyes a little at their shannanaggins. Like me.

Warmly,

Gramma Suelzle
January 2024

PS
I so appreciate the beautiful heartfelt words of someone who has gone through something deeply personal and moving. And I appreciate their willingness to share those sentiments so that others can feel the spirit of them – speaking right to, and right ‘from’ their own hearts. With that in mind, included here are the beautiful lyrics to a song written and recorded by Larry Pearson and Marie Pearson. Chosen by Samuel’s parents, and sung at his funeral by friend Leanne Smetaniuk, accompanied by friend Linda Purnell. Thank you Larry and Marie (brother and sister bytheway).

To Let Your Son Go
Ever since I held him close and saw that tiny face
I believed I understood why I’m in this place.
Birth is but a letting go from the arms of God,
But every tear of mine I’ve shed – When I had to give him back again.

Maybe someday I will understand,
But if he’s not in my arms, then at least I’m sure
He’s home within yours.

And within his newborn eyes, I’m sure I saw a light
An angel as a living soul, too perfect for this life.
I never knew what miracles I’d know because of him;
If I knew how it would end – I still would go through everything again.
He left Your home, then he left my own.
I guess You know what it is really like – To let Your son go.

Please here my prayer, heal me now in my deepest need.
Cause it’s enough to help me through
To know the one who understands – is You.

He left Your home, Then he let my own.
I guess You know what it is really like – To let Your son go.

the CD “One by One” by the Pearsons, produced cc 1998. I am sharing this image in the hopes that perhaps you might be able to find it one day either in the original CD, or Spotify or YouTube or wherever. It was independently done and I’ve looked in vain on line for any version that I could share with you here. Well worth the effort if you can find it.

Come Grow Old With Me

“Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made. Our times are in his hand who saith, ‘A whole I planned, youth shows but half; Trust God: See all, nor be afraid!”
– Robert Browning, a 19th century British poet, and famous for the poetry he and his wife Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote together, still often quoted today.

Many things he wrote touch my heart. But this: “Come grow old with me. The best is yet to be . . .” this one is my mantra. I first heard it when I was 17, recited by a television character in an episode of “Marcus Welby MD”, and it imprinted in my brain. I thought it was the most wonderful and idealic expressions of love I’d ever heard. Although I couldn’t really visualize a life that wasn’t youthful, I knew already that I wanted to grow old with Dan. And I completely trusted that “the best was yet to be”.

Robert Browning

Well, over 45 years have come and gone – nearly half a century. (Sheesh right 🙄). And I have realized for years that I am living my dream. Although it hasn’t always been a picnic, and we’ve certainly waded through much struggle over those years, I am indeed growing old with Dan. Ironically, Robert Browning outlived his wife Elizabeth by 28 years, never remarrying. He grew old without her, dying at the age of 77. How very, very sad. But not sadder than the hundreds of similar stories we see unfold all around us. Loving marriages, cut short here on earth by the passing of one. How grateful I am for the promise I have absolute faith in: that families are forever. Because of the atonement of Jesus Christ, families can be sealed together for eternity, and live together in family units forever.

Dan and I are approaching retirement. We hope and we pray for, and we truly look forward to the time to finish growing old together. We have many productive and wonderful years ahead, to spend together and to enjoy our family as they grow old too. But if not. If, for some reason that neither one of us will understand, that is not to be – then we can lean on the knowledge that we have chosen to seal ourselves to each other, with our family, and that we will be reunited in due time, and continue our life together in another place.

– warmly,

Cindy Suelzle

Remember When Jesus Gave You a Present and He Said SURPRISE!?

One day whe Luke was three or four years old, he said to me “Remember when Jesus came to our house Mom?”
hmmmm, I was a just a little confused …. “Nooo Luke. I don’t remember that.”
“Mom! He came. Remember?”

I racked my brain trying to recall some bearded man who had recently come to visit us. But couldn’t. “uh, no Luke. I am sorrry. I don’t remember.”
“Mom! You were there!”
Had Brother Blommaert come to visit? He had a beard.
Mom! He ringed the doorbell!” Had Brother Blommaert dropped something off recently? When I wasn’t home perhaps?
“And he gave you a present.”
…. oh my – this was getting very mysterious. “Jesus gave ME a present Luke?” Brother Blommaert MUST have been by.
“Yes! And the present was all wrapped up in a blanket.”

Feeling very sorry to disappoint him, but not recalling any recent event that might fit into the description he was giving me, I admitted defeat. “No Luke. I am sorry. But I cannot remember when Jesus came to our door and gave me a present.”
“MOM! And he said SURPRISE! and when you opened it up, it was ME!”

The light went on.
Oh Yes! I certainly do remember when Jesus gave me a wonderful surprise, and you’re right, it WAS you. Best surprise ever. …… But Luke, Jesus didn’t actually ring the doorbell.”

Luke couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t heard the wonderful story of how he came to our family. “A long time ago, there was just Mommy and Daddy, and Jacob, and Sarah, and Zack and Joseph. But no Luke. We thought everybody in our family was home. But you weren’t with us yet. You were still living in heaven. You were waiting for your turn to come to us, but we didn’t know that because it was a surprise. And we were just going about doing our stuff. And you were saying “Wait! Wait for me.” but we couldn’t hear you. We were having a picnic, and riding our bikes, and eating dinner and reading stories and you were saying “Hey! Wait for me!” And then one day, Heavenly Father said “its time to go join your family” and you were so happy. And Heavenly Father told us “Surprise!” and He gave you to us. And we were so surprised! And so so so happy.

Well that boy is almost thirty years old. And just about three decades ago Heavenly Father really did tell us “Surprise!”, and a few months later, Luke joined our happy family, completing that generation of it. April 7 1990. A Happy Day for all of us. Luke gave Jacob the chance to re-find his tender-big-brother-side, Sarah the chance to practice being a mommy on her own real-live doll. He gave Zack and Joseph a little brother to play with and to take care of. And he gave Dan and I another chance to put into practice all the things we learned from the other kids. Another chance to get it right. Baby Luke was a delight to us all. Never was there a little boy more loved and cared for, and cuddled and read to. He was always in someone’s arms. Sitting in church became a political problem …. he was three years old and everyone still wanted to hold him. I am amazed he ever learned to sit on his own, let alone walk on his own.

Why the story? Because at one point, before 1990 we thought we were finished having children. The doctors had strongly advised that my fourth caesarian should be my last, and after months of confusion, and praying for guidance about such an important decision, we decided at length to follow the doctor’s counsel and leave the details up to the Lord. We never had that conclusive feeling that our family was finished, but we knew with God all things are possible. We had good examples of adoption in our extended families. We had fostered briefly. We had provided a home for two years for the teenaged child of a friend. We knew there were numerous ways a child could join a family. It didn’t need to be traditional. We figured that if we were open and receptive, then one day, when the time was right, Heavenly Father would find a use for these parents who still had years to give. We trusted that one day – we might be surprised, and that if we would just be watchful, and receptive to the promptings, that we would respond appropriately when the time came, and the Lord might be able to work through us. It never occured to us that a child could come to us through the normal means after we had taken measures to ensure I didn’t get pregnant again. We didn’t think that was possible. Well, guess what? It is. With God – ALL things are possible. He knows us. He knows our hearts. He knows what is best for us. And He was patient with our decision five years before – knowing afterall, that He was in control. “You do the best you can until you know Better.” right?

My fear was that one day Luke might hear the word ‘surprise‘ from another source,and another perspective. All of our friends and family knew the miracle by which he came to us. I was afraid that at some point, he might overhear a portion of his story out of context, and he might deduce that ‘surprise’ meant something else. I wanted him to always know he was important, and loved and welcomed to our family with open arms and open hearts. I wanted to make sure that he never had a reason to doubt that, and I concluded that the only way I could ensure he never thought differently was if he heard it all from ME first. So from before the time he could talk, he heard his story. About how we didn’t know he was going to come to our family, but we were so happy when we found out. I told him in a way that I thought he could absorb. Funny how kids fit truth into their own reality. They sort it out in the way that they see the world. In the way that makes sense to them. I was okay with that. I knew that as he grew and his understanding developed, he would sort out the details. The only thing that was critically important was that he always feel loved.

Somewhere along the line, Luke grew up. And now he has two babies of his own. Very wanted and welcomed and loved babies that he shares with his lovely wife Pam, and with the rest of us. Cause that’s what families do. But he’s still my baby. And I still refer to him as my baby. And sometimes the grandchildren feel the need to object. “Uncle Luke isn’t a baby!” they say.
I tell them “oh yes he is. Don’t ever fool yourselves. Uncle Luke will always be our baby. And you know what? He likes being the baby. Don’t you Uncle Luke?”

Yup.” (that’s how he talks)

And the world continues to turn. And babies grow up. And mom’s get older too. But some things should never change.

Warmly,

Cindy Suelzle