Jesus Christ, Ray!
As my friend Suzanne and I neared the finish of a 9 mile run in 9 degree weather, we chatted about various things. For some reason, I remembered how my mom's favorite term of endearment to my dad was "Jesus Christ, Ray". This phrase has become common in my family and we (lovingly) use it on each other when the situation calls for it.
After I got in the house and warmed up with some coffee and added the dregs from the Bailey's bottle, I started thinking of my mom's entrance into heaven. The first thing she said to my dad was probably, yup, you guessed it - "Jesus Christ Ray". She probably said this because, as I have been told by the minister who performed both my mom and dad's funeral, you get your best self in Heaven. So my dad probably looked like this:
My mom looked like this but she didn't realize it yet since there are no mirrors in heaven because finally looks become unimportant and we get to see inside each other's soul.
Yeah I know no one has come back to verify this but I am comforted by this thought since today so much of our self image comes from how we look - and as we age, it can take a beating.
"Ma, when did you get in?" my dad asks. "Who'd you see?"
Georgetta must have realized in that instant of seeing my dad, that yup, she had the big one.
"Damn no wonder I was so dizzy," she said. "I really did shut 'er down, didn't I?"
Anyway, after my mom's usual greeting of my dad (although this time, I am sure she said it in a more loving, heavenly way than her usual earthly angry version), she felt a presence behind her. She turns to look behind her, and there in person, with his long brown hair, white robes, and sandals, is Jesus Christ, looking stern, with his arms folded. He shakes his finger at her and says, "George, I am going to have to talk to you about using that term".
"Sorry", she says.
My mom has a lot of questions for Jesus.
"Can you make sure Raymond gets enough to eat? And help him to quit drinking?"
"It's his movie," Jesus replies. Besides, you all have this thing called "free will".
Suddenly my mom remembers that there's a whole lot of people she wants to see that she hopes made it up here. She is given the tour and it will take eternity to see everyone she wants to see. Including all of the dogs and cats she has had and known over her lifetime - Puppy, Kitty, Bingo, Nomad, Billy, Poo, Bailey, and later our beloved Jack dog. They all race around and in Heaven; they don't even shed. So there is no need for vacuum cleaners either. She finds her siblings, and her mom and dad. This really is Heaven for her....just seeing and visiting everyone and talking and catching up. She realizes she has all the time in the world.
Over the next few years, she and my dad laugh at how they used to fight. They kiss their first great grandchild as he is sent down to Billy and Scarlett on that early August morning. When I first see him I feel that kiss, still warm on his beautiful forehead. My mom runs around heaven asking everyone, "Did you see my new great grandson?"
My mom gathers everyone to watch me run marathons. "I used to tell her she was too old", she says. "But now I hope she keeps going". When I am running in Rockland though, she still whispers to me "Don't go out of town".
I am sure she keeps her eye on us. She somehow convinced Barb and I we should knit socks. And she is constantly bugging Jesus.
"Can you at least make it snow on Christmas? Donna and Barbara like those big Christmas flakes".
"How come you can't make people be nicer to each other down there? Don't they know life is short?"
"I told you....free will", Jesus says, with just the right amount of divine exasperation.
My mom and dad get the job of welcoming newcomers. Sometimes they got to go down and escort them to Heaven. Swift, Joe, Andy Griffith (my dad was so excited to meet him) and then last March, Siggie quietly joined them. My mom thought it would be better if she came that morning instead of getting sicker and sicker.
After hugging her and offering to show her around, my mom immediately warned her, "You gotta watch your language a little around here".
After I got in the house and warmed up with some coffee and added the dregs from the Bailey's bottle, I started thinking of my mom's entrance into heaven. The first thing she said to my dad was probably, yup, you guessed it - "Jesus Christ Ray". She probably said this because, as I have been told by the minister who performed both my mom and dad's funeral, you get your best self in Heaven. So my dad probably looked like this:
My mom looked like this but she didn't realize it yet since there are no mirrors in heaven because finally looks become unimportant and we get to see inside each other's soul.
Yeah I know no one has come back to verify this but I am comforted by this thought since today so much of our self image comes from how we look - and as we age, it can take a beating.
"Ma, when did you get in?" my dad asks. "Who'd you see?"
Georgetta must have realized in that instant of seeing my dad, that yup, she had the big one.
"Damn no wonder I was so dizzy," she said. "I really did shut 'er down, didn't I?"
Anyway, after my mom's usual greeting of my dad (although this time, I am sure she said it in a more loving, heavenly way than her usual earthly angry version), she felt a presence behind her. She turns to look behind her, and there in person, with his long brown hair, white robes, and sandals, is Jesus Christ, looking stern, with his arms folded. He shakes his finger at her and says, "George, I am going to have to talk to you about using that term".
"Sorry", she says.
My mom has a lot of questions for Jesus.
"Can you make sure Raymond gets enough to eat? And help him to quit drinking?"
"It's his movie," Jesus replies. Besides, you all have this thing called "free will".
Suddenly my mom remembers that there's a whole lot of people she wants to see that she hopes made it up here. She is given the tour and it will take eternity to see everyone she wants to see. Including all of the dogs and cats she has had and known over her lifetime - Puppy, Kitty, Bingo, Nomad, Billy, Poo, Bailey, and later our beloved Jack dog. They all race around and in Heaven; they don't even shed. So there is no need for vacuum cleaners either. She finds her siblings, and her mom and dad. This really is Heaven for her....just seeing and visiting everyone and talking and catching up. She realizes she has all the time in the world.
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| Grandma Maxfield, my mom's mom |
My mom gathers everyone to watch me run marathons. "I used to tell her she was too old", she says. "But now I hope she keeps going". When I am running in Rockland though, she still whispers to me "Don't go out of town".
I am sure she keeps her eye on us. She somehow convinced Barb and I we should knit socks. And she is constantly bugging Jesus.
"Can you at least make it snow on Christmas? Donna and Barbara like those big Christmas flakes".
"How come you can't make people be nicer to each other down there? Don't they know life is short?"
"I told you....free will", Jesus says, with just the right amount of divine exasperation.
My mom and dad get the job of welcoming newcomers. Sometimes they got to go down and escort them to Heaven. Swift, Joe, Andy Griffith (my dad was so excited to meet him) and then last March, Siggie quietly joined them. My mom thought it would be better if she came that morning instead of getting sicker and sicker.
 |
| Siggie |
After hugging her and offering to show her around, my mom immediately warned her, "You gotta watch your language a little around here".
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