Elizabeth Abbott

When my baby brother Carter died, I was only four and a half. I didn't understand that dying meant I was never going to see him again on earth. Today, sometimes I cry wishing it was all some crazy nightmare, hoping any second now I am going to wake up. I pray to God, telling Him how lucky He is to have Carter in His heaven. I know it’s cheesy, but each time my family has the opportunity to have a balloon, we write messages on it and let it go in the night sky, hoping he will get it. I often quietly talk to Carter, telling him about my our family and his sisters and brother and telling him about all the fun we're having, hoping he will have just as much fun in heaven. Then I remember, he belongs in heaven, and I am happy we are telling the world about Carter's story.