I almost guarantee that no one has ever asked you that question before.
After my baby daughter died, I used to go to the cemetery a lot. Not like every day, but probably twice a week or so. My 3 year old daughter would come with me, of course, and she loved going. It was like a park to her. She could run around and I could feel comfort in being there. Now I cry my eyes out every time I go, and it’s been 33 years. But back then I didn’t cry at the cemetery, especially because of my other daughter running around. One day it occurred to my oldest daughter that maybe it was icky to be there, because she saw some other visitors crying. She asked me in a scared voice if my baby daughter was there. I told her no, she was in heaven, and this was like a special park where she was so important that we put a pretty stone there in her honor. My oldest thought that was really cool. She liked putting flowers there and balloons on my baby’s birthday.
One day she didn’t want to leave. It was a beautiful sunny day and it was a combination of the fact that she was having fun and don’t-do-what-Mom-says-no-matter-what. I, of course, won the battle of wills and into the car she went. During the next step where strapping her into the car seat was a power struggle (which I also won), she said to me angrily “Are there car seats in heaven? I bet my sister doesn’t have to use a car seat!” I stopped and realized how unique her perspective was. And it was lovely to be able to tell her that “Your sister is always safe in heaven.”