Heaven = babies – orphans = perpetuate fantasies/ticking time bomb
Heaven dropped me like a bomb.
At least that’s what I used to like to tell all my little friends at elementary school in Mayport, Florida when I didn’t know how to explain why I looked so different from the rest of my family.
“I dropped out of the sky from heaven. I didn’t come from my mommy’s tummy like you did. I came straight from heaven,” I would proudly declare.
My little girlfriends at recess would widen their eyes and coo, until one of them would speak up and ask, “But, wait, I thought you came from an orphanage.”
And just like that, my logic slipped into my Kool-Aid and dissolved.
“Well, after the orphanage, God took me back up into Heaven, and then he brought me back so that I could be with my family.”
“You’re weird,” one of the girls would say.
“Do you remember the orphanage? Was it like the movie ‘Annie?’ ”
I could feel them ebbing away, “Uh, no, I don’t really remember. Not really. I was just a baby.” Their faces would fall with discontent and boredom.
“Let’s go swing!”
And off they would go to the swings, while I stood there alone, watching them laugh and whisper in each other’s ears secret things that I knew I would never know.
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