Heavenly – I hope

This old man, he played seven, he played seven all the way to heaven. With a knick-knack-patty-whack, bring a dog -”
“What’s heaven, Momma?”
“- a bone – hmmm?”
“What’s heaven?”

– pause – deep breath. This is a biggie – and a first. Intimidated, I give it a go.

“Well, Love, heaven’s where you go when you die.”
“When you die?”
“When you don’t have a body anymore, and all the stuff that makes up your heart and your spirit and your mind, when all the things that make you you don’t have a body to stay in anymore, then you go to heaven.”

“Where is it?”
“Where’s heaven, Love?”
“Yah.”

“Hmm, well I think it’s in the sky, Love – and in the fields where the flowers grow, and in waterfalls and raindrops and birdsong and rainbows. Heaven is everywhere that is beautiful and mysterious and good, in all those places that make you feel like flying.”

Bonhomme looks at me searchingly, mulling this over.
Then he nods his head decisively, and says:
“Yup, that’s right, Momma.”

And both of us somewhat awed, secure in our complete confidence in each other’s wisdom, cuddle to the gentle hum of this old man.

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1 comment so far

  1. Moosilaneous on

    Wow. You are, not just wise, but so articulate!
    All the best things – that’s heaven alright.
    And with Bonhomme, clearly you get a piece of it now and then.


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