Hey there, Pop –
I know, I know; normally I would be writing Rachel about the goings-on around here. But it’s been a while since I’ve been able to talk to you now, and since this would be going to approximately the same address (although what do I know? Heaven is undoubtedly larger than the entire earth, so who’s to say? Then again, as far as we’re aware, it’s not subdivided much – maybe only as many as seven times – so how am I supposed to narrow the delivery down?), I might as well check in with you like this now and again. Besides, some of the subject matter would be more to your interest than hers, for reasons I’ll get to soon enough.
How’ve you been doing up there, anyway? I’ll bet you’ve been restored, both in mind and body, and you’re appreciating that. Especially the ability to eat; we’d been betting (not literally, as money wouldn’t even be able to change hands when nothing can be confirmed from our vantage point) on what it was you had for your first meal in seven-odd years. The consensus has been favoring a nice juicy steak with garlic mashed potatoes, but that’s only the front runner on the leaderboard. My nominee would be Gale Street ribs, which you’d be sharing with your father for old time’s sake. But of course, all this is idle speculation on our part; harmless, but also pointless. As long as we can’t hear back from you, it’s not as if we’ll ever know – and by the time we do know, we’ll be up there with you, and the question will be moot.
Still, I do wish you could fill us in on some of the answers to these idle answers. I know, if we had all the answers, there’d be no place for faith, but if we could have just a handful of answers here and there, I’d like to think I’d be satisfied for the time being. Besides, an answer as to your first meal up there would also resolve other, more general questions such as whether one eats there at all… or, for those of truly small faith, whether there’s a heaven at all, and what it takes to get in there (although we believe we’ve been plenty informed about that already). So one seemingly trivial question would answer so many others.
I wonder if this is why so many philosophers used to argue about the number of angels could dance on the head of a pin…
Anyway, I seem to have wandered a bit, and spent more time than I meant to on things that you can’t respond to. I should be filling you in on life down here, and specifically, how Mom has been dealing with your first anniversary apart in sixty-six years. I know from all the paperwork you left behind that you worked hard to make sure she was taken care of and comfortable in the eventuality that you would have to leave earth before her, so if anything on this little cosmic dust speck would be of any concern to you, it would be her welfare.
And as far as that goes, you’ve succeeded; she’s pretty well set for much of what life can throw at her. The only thing is, she doesn’t always know that; not because she’s diminished in any way (especially not like my in-laws were), but that she’s just unfamiliar with the processes you set up and kept running almost until your last week or so. For all that she tells me about getting Facebook messages of encouragement on this first anniversary on her own, the thing that concerned her the most was that she hadn’t received the bills for auto and homeowners’ insurance that, according to your records from past years, should have arrived by now. She has the wherewithal to pay them, thanks to you, but she was fretting that they hadn’t arrived yet to be paid at some point during this month.
Now, you would probably mention that you tried to show her what needed to be done and when, but that she wasn’t interested enough to involve herself in the day-to-day of taking care of the household finances, so you carried that mantle. I’m certainly not blaming you for that; on the contrary, I’m dealing with the same sort of thing with regard to turning stuff like this over to Daniel for the eventuality when I move out of the house (one way or another) and he has to fend for himself, so I can relate.
But it does seem strange? amusing? curious? that she’s not so much struggling with the loneliness of being apart from you as she is with the whole “what do I do now?” of this bill and that. For what it’s worth, each time one or another comes up, I try to reassure her that the bills will arrive eventually – either physically in the postbox, or electronically through the email that she has access to – and she doesn’t need to be overly concerned with them until then. But she’s not used to the timing of everything just yet; it may take her a year or more before the routine becomes just that: a routine.
The funny part of all of her worries is that, after reassuring her that the bills would show up in due time, and returning to my ‘office’ in the basement, when I came up to drive her out to the trattoria, she showed me what had just arrived in the mail. Sure enough, she’d gotten the bills, on the very day she spent worrying about when they would arrive. I assume she’ll be taking care of them some time today, and hopefully spending the rest of the day – maybe even the rest of the week – with those few cares to deal with.
Given the timing, I might wonder if you didn’t nudge the postman to get those things over, so as to set her mind at ease. If so, it would probably be the weirdest anniversary present a husband could give his wife, but sometimes, these are the things we need now and then. Thanks again, and I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself; we’re trying our best down here.
Your son,
