Proof of Heaven

stopped functioning. It left even less room for those words I’d heard in
church again and again: “life everlasting.”
Which is why I counted on my family—on Holley and our boys and
my three sisters and, of course, my mom and dad—so much. In a very
real sense, I’d never have been able to practice my profession—to
perform, day in and day out, the actions I performed, and to see the things
I saw—without the bedrock support of love and understanding they
provided.
And that was why Phyllis (after consulting our sister Betsy on the
phone) decided that night to make a promise to me on behalf of our whole
family. As she sat there with my limp, nearly lifeless hand in hers, she
told me that no matter what happened from then on, someone would
always be right there, holding my hand.
“We are not letting you go, Eben,” she said. “You need an anchor to
keep you here, in this world, where we need you. And we’ll provide it.”
Little did she know just how important that anchor was going to prove
in the days to come.