"If God dwells inside us like some people say He does,
I hope He likes enchiladas because that's what he's getting."
~ Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey
I.
I've only ever been impressed by one car in my entire life and it was a Cadillac Escalade. My best friend from college, Corey, and her fiance-at-the-time, Mike, had rented a pair of white ones for their wedding party to drive around in on the wedding day. She picked me up from the airport in one and I felt genuinely gorgeous in the posh, elevated, extravagant, unnecessarily over-the-top sensation of being in this super rad vehicle. That whole weekend, man. It was one of the best of my life. Getting picked up from the airport in an Escalade was just the start of unforgettable, wonderful experiences.
II.
True story: my younger brother Josh once fell into the Euphrates River. The Euphrates, as you may or may not be aware, is a major waterway in Western Asia. It is also extremely polluted. My brother took a tumble into the water, much to the chagrin of the people he was with, and a delicate cleanup procedure had to be implemented. I can only imagine the whole scene -- my brother is extremely tall and very friendly and Mid-Western. How could anyone get angry at this lovable giant? They couldn't! But grumpy -- they could definitely be grumpy. And the cleanup? It was a success.
III.
Once for Tom's birthday, I gave him a DVD of the movie Stepbrothers. I thought he'd think it was funny. I gave it to him at a trivia night at The Druid in Inman Square, handing it over in a felt gift bag shaped like a ladybug, a symbol that is of extreme importance to me. The bag had handles that Tom looped around his wrist like a handbag, clutching the gift to his chest for the rest of the evening as we played trivia with our friends and drank beer and whiskey and it's one of the most endearing memories I have of him.
IV.
On my flight to Ohio this Christmas, there was a girl a few rows behind me who cried -- moaned -- for the last thirty minutes of this seventy-five minute flight. She was maybe eight and only slightly eclipsed by the two-year-old who sat directly behind me kicking my seat with great gusto for the entire seventy-five minutes while he parents cheered at a football game they were watching. Near the end of the flight, as the girl's moaning increased, so did her mother's frustration as she said through audibly gritted teeth, "Have a DRINK, Margot." Have a drink, Margot. We all wanted a drink, Margot. And we all got one as soon as the plane landed and we dispersed to our final destinations.
V.
I knew God was real when I was eight-years-old. I was kneeling in church during a Maundy Thursday service. Maundy Thursday is part of the Christian Easter holiday -- it's "Good Friday Eve," the day celebrating The Last Supper and other events leading up to Jesus' crucifixion. During the service, the altar is stripped of everything -- the ceremony is very moving. And the first time I ever experienced it, the minister, George Ross, had the church lights dimmed and the most poignant organ music playing. I was in the choir so I was so close to it all. There were no words spoken -- only actions -- only movement -- only event. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced in my life. I knew right then, without explanation or need for one, that God was part of this human experience, and it filled me with the most powerful form of love.
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