on the way to visit Tinsley
Jamesey asked where God lives
I shrug and say I don’t really know
because I don’t really know
but God and Tinsley
are most certainly together
I tell him
and then a surprise at the cemetery:
a strange encounter
with her grave dug up
I yelp instinctively
“where is she?!”
and frantically lift the heavy slab of cardboard
to stare into a 4 foot deep hole
i look around in confusion
the momentary fear
that someone has taken her
knocks me to my knees
shock wears off and i realize
i’m starting at the hole for the gravestone —
this is where they’ll pour the concrete
(there is so much to learn about death)
i sigh with relief, snort into the dirt
and press my fingers to the earth
“i didn’t know where you were,
i didn’t know where you were sweet girl”
i profess, i confess, i sob
jamesey pats me on the back
“oh mommy, she lives with God, remember?”
and i continue weeping
now for the simple faithfulness
that erupts from the souls
of little children
exactly when we need it
the most
