Tuesday, July 5, 2011
The Girl Gets It
"Nobody knows, except God," she added with that same impish smile, only slightly wider. I was not surprised to hear that. She was, after all, my older sister's kid; home-schooled and cocooned a Christian world to the extent that her mother could insulate her without becoming recluse.
"OK," I said, and took aim at one of the two billiard balls with my pool cue, my mind wondering how this is going to turn out.
Crack! Balls scattered, nodding to physics.
"OK, so did I hit the good ball or the bad ball?" I eagerly asked.
"Let me check," said Suzy. She tilted her face towards heaven, and started mouthing words without sound, as if having a private conversation with God about the balls.
"God said you hit the good one!" she exclaims.
I couldn't help but slip into the profundity of the situation for a moment. Here she was, holding an imaginary conversation with God, which, in a way, is what so many adults do. And the process; look up to heaven, mouth words, get a reply, was as though something which she had been trained in or had observed adults around her performing. Yet at the same time, she handled it as if it was all make believe, as if she knew it was all an hoax, like the way you may joke about running off a cliff and holding still for a few seconds before gravity takes over like in cartoons.
She handled it the way I would had handled it if I was "talking to God" for show. That was the most interesting part, because it was like she knew that talking to God did not work, or at least did not work that way, like a conversation. She gets it. I just hope she keeps it, but chances are not good under my sister's tutelage.
Of course, how you leave your childhood home is not necessarily how you live your entire life. I still have hope.