If Heaven had visiting hours, I would clear my schedule for the afternoon. I would leave my phone behind, along with all other responsibilities. I’d tell everyone not to worry, that I would be back soon. “I’m going to visit my mom,” I’d say, grinning ear to ear.

I would pack a bag of things to show you that you’ve missed since you’ve been gone. Inside, there’d be a stack of pictures of family, friends, and all. Although you’ve watched us grow from your spot up in the clouds, I want to show you what it's looked like from my perspective on the ground.

I would make my way up to Heaven to see you for the first time in years. After reaching the gates at the entrance, I’d see you standing there, looking as beautiful as ever, dressed from head to toe in white. Your eyes are bright, no more pain or sadness hiding in them. Your smile is bigger than ever before. All signs of illness are gone. Nothing remains but the look of complete happiness.

I’d hug you tight, never wanting to let go. It’s been too long since I’ve felt so at home.

We’d sit on a bench or a swing, much like the one on our porch at home. I’d hold your hand and rest my head on your shoulder, much like I did growing up. I’d say anything to make you laugh, a sound I’ve missed more than you could ever know.

If Heaven had visiting hours, I’d tell you about it all. I’d tell you about the nights I’ve cried because I miss having you around. I’d tell you about the laughs our family has somehow been able to share. I’d tell you all about my friends and how supportive they’ve been. Life without you hasn’t been easy, I’m sure you’ve seen it all. However, there have been ups to go along with the downs.

I’d pull out my bag of souvenirs from Earth and show each item to you one by one.

A lot has happened since you’ve been gone. Somehow, most of the things have been good. Like how I’ve made it into my major’s honor society, keeping good grades even after you were gone.

I’d show you pictures of Dad and I. We’re closer than ever before. We go to dinner once a week and we talk about you all the time. Our family is still very strong, despite the losses we’ve shared. You’d be really proud of everyone.

After catching up on all the gossip that's happening at home, we could spend the rest of the afternoon doing all the things we used to do when you were still around. We could sew a quilt that I could bring back home with me to curl up in when I’m missing your hugs. We could make a scrapbook of all of our adventures for me to cherish when I go home. We can blast our favorite songs and dance around like we used to. We could make a whole new set of memories to add to the 19 years we already have.

When the day is over and it’s time for me to go, I’d be so sad to leave you. I’d remind you how much I love you and am trying to make you proud. I’d give you one more hug, not wanting to let go. But it would be OK, because Heaven would still have visiting hours, and I could just come back again.