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.
). 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. 