My grandfather passed away when I was 7 years old, around the time my family started teaching me more about heaven. I thought that when he passed away, it meant that he just went to go live in the clouds. Whenever I took a plane, I remember searching the clouds thinking I would see him. On clear days, the idea that my grandfather was truly gone scared me. The clouds would always come back, and whenever I noticed, a couple hours of that day would take place laying on the grass watching them move across the sky.
