Do They Love Me Now?

My 4 year old grandson and beloved associate (I totally stole that term from Anne Lamott), Bo, likes to ask questions, big questions without clear answers.

Questions like "Where was I before I was in Momma's tummy?"

Answers like "You just were. . " aren't very satisfying to a literal minded young boy and maybe not even to his middle-aged Nanny. (Back off if you laughed at middle-aged because I'm totally living until I'm 110.)

Recently his questions have turned to death.

Looking at a picture of my grandparents on our refrigerator, he asked who they were. I told him they were his great-great grandparents. I told him their names, that the farm we sometimes visit had belonged to them.

He took this all in but quickly asked, Where do they live now?

I paused a moment, with words about heaven and Jesus floating through my head, but I quickly recovered and remembered who my audience was.

"Popaw and Nana lived long, good lives. They grew gardens, and had dogs and baby pigs. They loved Mammy and then me and then Momma. When they were very old, they were finished with all of their work and then they died."

"But where are they?" Bo continued as he ate fruit snacks and stacked blocks.

"They're in the ground at a cemetery near the farm."

"Under the ground?"

"Under the ground."

"Do they love me now?"

"They most certainly love you now."

With that, he moved on to play one of his Papa's board games, with slightly different rules where everybody takes turns winning and losing, mostly.

After he was back at his home, and I was picking up dice (he loves dice!) and markers and other Bo remnants, I revisited our conversation, and wondered what the real answer to his question might be.

I've been watching a Netflix series about a religious family that lives their lives constantly thinking of eternity.

The characters don't worry so much about how their decisions work out here on earth but how those decisions will effect their time in the heavenly kingdom.  (If you haven't figured out the show, don't ask. You would think less of me if I told you.)

Watching this show (and yes, I do know it's a show) I get caught up in the drama and find myself thinking Wow, those people really believe in heaven. How strange is that. 

When suddenly, I jolt myself back to my living room and say Well, hey, you believe in heaven, too. . . . Don't you. . . . maybe. 

And then I can imagine my grandmother standing in heaven's kitchen pulling biscuits out of the oven and I feel guilty for the maybe.

I grew up with the idea of a heaven and hell, but I could never tell for sure if people were being straight up with me.

Honestly, I've been to lots of funerals with people who believed in such places but so far 100% of those made it to the pearly gates if you want take the pastor's word for it. From a quantitative standpoint, I'm not sure that is statistically possible.

But really, at this point in my life it doesn't matter.  Although I really like to think there is an actual heaven where only good things happen for people who were born and lived under really shitty circumstances.

But, if you go with that whole balance theory where if there is an up, there has to be a down, then with the concept of heaven also comes the idea of hell. And I just don't see Love doing the whole Hell thing. I'm sorry, but I just don't.

Secretly, I think I like the idea of hell even a bit more than heaven. You know what I mean, just for the people I don't particularly like, like wall-builders and NRA supporters that stand with signs that say "Real Mamas pack heat" and people that are mean to dogs and parents that don't read to their kids.

But, that would make it my hell, just like mountains and trails and literary fiction would make it my heaven. . see where I'm going with this.

If there is one thing that has remained consistent in my upbringing, and even the most fundamental and progressive religious practices can agree on is that God is love.

So, my dear Bo, I am confident in answering your questions now. You, like every other human being, came from the very being of God and when death comes, you will go right back to that sacred space, where Nana and Popaw are already loving you.

Where you are in between your arrival and departure? Well, that's for you to decide.

 I hope you recognize early that the holy is in you and you walk through life knowing whose you are. It certainly makes this life less scary and a bit more joyful.  Actually, heaven isn't even necessary because living in that Love is enough.

And now, Bo, it's time for me to ponder your next big question.

Why does the poop in birds just fall out of them?

Thanks be to God for 4 year old boys.