but how did her soul get to heaven

“but how did her soul get to heaven
if her body is buried in the ground?”

his soft little boy voice thunders at me
from the other side of the sofa

these kinds of questions always seem to come out of nowhere
like when we have just taken a bath
or played at the park
or snacked on some goldfish

“like how did her soul even know how to find heaven
or where god wanted her to go?”

i smile at the sweet child in front of me
and i worry that he has grown up too fast

thoughts of tinsley, of life, of death, of god,
come to him all the time,
just like they come to me

i wonder if i should give him more definitive, comforting answers
the ones i could pull out of of my pocket
like magic

i could tell him what the next world looks like
about where she is and what she is doing
and how she got there

but i have opted for a more truthful route
and i share with him the only thing i really know

which is that wherever she is
and however she got there
she is safe
and that she can feel our love
even across the great divide of death

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