Vignette: Letters to God #7

Letters to God #7

Hi God,

It’s me, Daniel, the one whose mother died on July 3, 2006. Remember? It was a Sunday and I thought I couldn’t possibly go on? And then we had a super tacky pioneer themed road show for sacrament meeting?

That was really funny/the worst.

Do you ever run into my mom? I know there are like a hundred-billion dead people from this planet alone and she was only 5’6”. I don’t really know how it works, but I got the sense that if she is around and is watching, then she’s all kinds of concerned (at best) or deeply disappointed.

I think she had a harder path than me by a good amount. My inability to do less with more must be baffling to her. (I’m not fan of my inabilities myself.) Regardless, here we are …

I’ve been telling you for a while that the center cannot hold, that I can’t go on as is, or that I feel miserably stuck. The assumption was always that this would be alarming to you, that you’d spring into action—the hand of God would miraculously be revealed and all that. As I think about it now, it feels silly.

There is a certain arrogance to thinking my problems, though consuming for a scrub like me, would rise to the “urgent” basket on your heavenly desk. Also, it’s just dawning on me that you might not have any particular allegiance to my “center.” Maybe it’s already held too long for your tastes, and who would I be to disagree?

Whatever the road from this point onward, it sure would be nice to have a family. I hope not too many people get too hurt on the way from here to there, wherever “there” is.

This all must be baffling for my mother. Poor woman.

Xo,

Daniel