A humorous description of Heaven for a dying sister.
|I hear you might be hanging out looking for somewhere to rest your thoughts. So here is an option; a story about Heaven. (Cue the music...what do you think? Barry Manilow?)
OK. The prospects of Heaven start with your Earthly religion. Not all Heavens are created alike it seems. For some the eternal nothingness of Nirvana seems like a good idea. Not me. I’m going for eternal life with all the excitements and none of the consequences- Heaven. As a Christian, you do have this option also. As a Catholic there is more paperwork, I believe, but you will no doubt get there eventually...Eventually.
So you have your passport to Heaven, now what? Well, that is the part that intrigues me. What would Heaven really be like? How about the extreme makeover Heaven, my Heaven?
Actually I never get past the Pearly Gate part, but that is the most fun, and of course I don’t know what does happens after that. I can come up with some arrival scenarios that fit together to form one gala affair. So here is a version of what I mean. Just imagine we are there at the gates. Wait! You need to really look at those gates. What do they look like; mother of pearl inlaid into gold arches accented by turquoise chips down each side? That’s my gate. What does your gate look like? I’m waiting while you take a look. Okay.
The gates are open of course. They are expecting us. Inside, and you can see quite a bit from the road to the gates, inside, there is a party, with lots of laughter. It is a suave affair, the moony lighting, candles on the tables for six, where groups are definitely enjoying one another’s company. Most everyone is dressed up in Hollywoodesque ball gowns and tuxedos. The temperature is perfect, almost tropical with flowery air movement, but not enough to disturb a hairdo. You vaguely recognize everyone, but don’t quite have your wits about you during this transition. You are more observer than participant. You will not be a part until your cross the threshold of those big ass gates. What did they look like again? They can be different now if you want. It is your Heaven, too.
The folks inside see you coming and the lights go up a bit and everyone is keen upon your arrival. There is some toasting, a subtle quieting of conversation. You see them gleam from your presence and you are drawn to them because they like you and you think, “they really like me”. The mood in the room is one of inclusion, love, and appreciation. “Job well done there, woman!”, “ Here, Here!”, and “Darling” come from the crowd. You are ready to go forth and meet them and satisfy their obvious wish to be reunited with you.
You step through those gates. Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you about the gates again. Anyway, you are a bit tired and wonder how you are going to hold up for what seems to be quite an evening all in your honor. You are so close to going in, but hesitate on the brink for maybe 3 seconds? Was it that long? Well? How long do you hesitate before you go through? Okay, for the sake of the story and progress, 3 seconds for now. Maybe you went right in, but it is my story and it is only one version, so at this point you hesitate a bit.
BUT-wait! Never start a sentence with a conjunctive? Is that a conjunctive, but? But! The positive air flow into Heaven swept you in before you could dawdle any further. The dawdling was to no avail. You were already there after all. Sorry, that will be another story in another time.
As your butt, yeah I got to say it, Butt! (Remember when you first used that term?) The air swept your skinny butt through the gates, shining with ... okay, I said I would not ask, but you are not going to see these gates again. How do they look as you are pulled past them? Dream big: sapphires, stained glass, silver roses? Thank you for working with me here.
You look gorgeous! You know it. You are working it, girl, as you swish forward to the waiting crowd with a gorgeous gown that hangs perfectly on the best figure of your life. It shimmers? Oh, does it shimmer? It is your dress. What do you think. You want it flattering of course, and what color? If you want it to be your wedding dress we can do that, but make it more comfortable. You might want to save wearing it for another party down the road if you know my meaning. We are all coming. Just staggered, we hope.
Back to your dress, shoes, earrings? Be daring, why not? You are still a woman with a history, but you can have fun with it. These people certainly love you for who you are, and you can feel the confidence fill your body like a lip job on Goldie Hawn. You are warm, fuzzy, and starting to fit in your groove, when someone to the side of you cradles your elbow and offers to get you a drink.
“ I don’t know what you are drinking this evening,” she says, still not in your peripheral sight.
“And you Madame?” asks the waiter, as handsome as a pool man. Well, he is a pool man by day. It’s his frigging Heaven, too.
You look into his adoring eyes and order___. You need to tell him what you want. Did I hear you? Go ahead ,order your drink, out loud if you want. Practice your most sultry reply. You are you. I know you will make the guy smile and remember you above some of the others there. The charm, babe, you got charm.
The same woman who took your elbow when you arrived, hands you your drink, and then you see it is our sister, Alice Louise. She looks hot! She is every bit as pretty as her high school picture, but older and wiser. You get to pick your age in Heaven and options for change are always open. If you want, you can talk about that after your party, but really, you have all the options you can think of, and go ahead, make your own age right now and hairdo, nails, and jewelry while we are at it. Do the long hair, please, that was fun.
Alice is looking past you to the other side, and Florence is there to offer you a cigarette. Wait a minute. Cigarettes, in Heaven? Is that kosher? Well, look at it this way; you can’t go back. There are no consequences, either. If you want to show moral fortitude or repentance, say no to the cigarette, and have no qualms doing so. No worries, it’s Heaven. If on the other hand, you would love a cigarette, go for it.
Clever things are being said, and you are all laughing. I can’t quite hear the conversations from where I am, but I can imagine the smart witty humor going between you all as it always did. Then you are quiet as you make out the faces just ahead of where the tables begin. There are the fathers, looking chic and Humphrey Bogartish. They are stepping forward to speak to you. I could be very jealous about that. I would love to talk to my dad. I feel sometimes I have overlapped with my Mom and sister, and even a little with Rod since they were gone. Maybe because I was younger, I don’t know. It is my Dad I would be excited about reuniting with.
You see Rodney. He is debonair and leans out to give you a kiss of appreciation as you glide by. His skin is clear and he is a fox, so tall and self-assured. I know, now I am delving into other people’s Heaven where I barely have any right other than entertainment. Yes, it is just a story.
There is your mother, sitting demurely at a table smiling coyly at you. It is all good. They are all here. You see others in the crowd you are jazzed to go talk to... Go head, I am right behind you. Well maybe not right behind, but soon enough. Yeah, it’s your party, go ahead, have a Hell of a time. Oh gosh, did I say that? A Hell of a good time? Well, it’s Heaven, it's okay. Remember, what happens in Heaven, stays in Heaven. Have fun, see you soon.