This morning, the impulse to urinate roused me from my coma. Mission accomplished, I staggered back to my cot. 5 minutes later, our youngest heartbreaking work of genius staggered into our bedroom. It's Saturday morning, not yet 7, and he wants to watch a movie quietly upstairs. He selects The Black Stallion Returns (or is it Return of The Black Stallion? I don't have the energy to figure out which way round the title goes). I load up the movie, turning down the volume, grateful that there are no previews to wade through.
The thought occurs that, maybe, I can return to my quarters and doze another half hour or so. But then I hear Satan laughing. He says, "You think you're going back to bed now? Get real, buddy. You may as well face it: it's time to get up."
So, on my way downstairs, I shuffle past our room, but hear something in Meg's room. Muffled tones seep through a closed door. She's up and discussing something with her imaginary friends in whispers. I open her door and discover she's sitting at her desk writing. She turns and smiles, happy to greet me.
I am not alone as I enter the kitchen. I put on a pot of coffee and Meaghan places her order: peanut butter and blueberry jam on one piece of square bread. We are out of blueberry, so she opts for raspberry instead.
She begins talking about angels, her theology derived from a Disney film. We talk about what real angels might be like and she gets onto the topic of Jesus.
"When Jesus died, there was no hope," she says.
"You're right, hon. There was no hope."
"But, then what happened?"
She doesn't reply. She's thinking.
"Hon. Then what happened?"
Still no reply.
"What happened to Jesus after he died?"
"They took him down from the cross."
"Yes, and then what?"
"They wrapped him up."
"They laid him in a cave."
"Uh huh. And then?"
"He came back to life."
We discuss the number of days he lay in "the cave" and conclude this portion of our discussion with: "So, when Jesus died, there was no hope. But when Jesus came back to life, there was hope."
Then she wondered if people went to heaven when Jesus died.
I said, "Let me tell you a story about something Jesus said when he was hanging on the cross."
With paper and a crayon in hand, I related the story of Jesus and the criminals beside him.
"When one of the bad men said he believed in Jesus, Jesus said, 'Today, you will be with me in paradise.'"
"It's a place that's great. It has rivers and mountains and trees and sunshine and plenty of food and animals and it's wonderful. It's another way of saying 'heaven'. So, when Jesus said 'You'll be with me in paradise' he was saying 'You'll go to heaven because you believe in me.'"
"Do you believe in Jesus, Meaghan?"
"Yes, I do."
After that, she wondered about The Trinity. Then we perused deeper readings such as Chicka Chicka Boom Boom and Weather Games With Blue.