For a woman who claimed not to believe in heaven, Mom certainly talked about it a lot. Here are two examples:
From February, 2014. Mom is soon to turn 95.
When playing Scrabble this week, we had our usual conversation about her soul. She—offering me her soul in exchange for some decent tiles. Me—refusing her offer and advising her that she might need it someday to join Dad in heaven.
This time the conversation took a new turn.
“Well, you could come with me and give me back my soul when we arrive.”
“But Mom, that would require me to die too.”
“Well, maybe you could just visit and before anyone knows what is happening, I could grab my soul and you could run away.”
Then she grinned. “Or we could fight each other for it.”
Did I mention that I got my competitive streak from Mom?”
Today Mom and I had a lovely time. After marveling at the view of the Sound, we turned to one of her favorite subjects. What will Seattle be like in 50 years?
“When you are a very old lady, as old as I am now—I’ll be dead you know—you’ll have to call me up and tell what it’s like.”
“Will you be in heaven?”
“Naturally. I’ll knock on your door to tell you what has occurred and if I don’t knock on your door, you’ll know nothing has happened. That we just lie there—dead, doing nothing.
At this point, she mimed looking dead and then laughed.
“And if everyone who says they are going to heaven goes, it will be too full. I’ll stay here.”
Then she began singing “Bicycle Built for Two” to one of her stuffed animals. She remembered every word.
What a wonderful woman.