When my mama prays, she prays her best prayer. I'm on my knees, and they hurt real bad, because my mama's best prayers are always long. Sometimes she scrunches her face when she feels stuff from her heart. I look over to my dad, he nods when my mama says something real nice; or when she prays that this nation will be alright. My dad has brown hair, but now it's turning a little grey at the edges. The kind of grey that tells age. Grey like the copying machine he sits next to all day. His eyes are wrinkly and he always breathes heavy when we pray. He looks so old when my mama prays. Maybe it's because he loves her so much, that the rest of his love, is gone. Or maybe he misses his brother. His twin brother. His dead brother. I guess he thinks about him when my mama prays. That probably makes his face look real tired. But I know his heart never stops lovin'.
Sometimes my daddy peeks back at me and then he snaps his fingers or smashes his eyes very tight; his way of telling me to close my eyes. I look down instead. I stare straight ahead and look out the glass windows. I blink and breathe and sigh for the other humans who feel sad, like me.
But I figured, God would understand.
My mama tells me that God knows everything about me. She says he created me from string and gold, but still holds onto His end. One time after she told me how God knows when I'm sad and when I don't feel like talking, just like she always does, I said back to her, "Yes mama. But the thing is, I don't know Him."
I think that broke her heart, because then she went to her room and shut the door.
She was there for a long, long time.
But shouldn't God know that I get nervous to close my eyes and sit still for a long time? Shouldn't He know that I'm scared to not see anything, and only hear my mama's voice echo in my head? Doesn't He know I can feel the Earth stop spinning; only leaving me alone and spinning? Doesn't He know I don't like the feeling I get when my mama puts her hands down the back of my shirt?
The cold hands. Her cold hands.
"Please bless us, God, bless us that we will all be well and bless our hearts that we will be humble. Not prideful. Bless our neighbors and our community; please especially bless this nation that it will prosper and that we will be guided by wisdom."
My daddy nods.
I look straight.
Yes, God should know me.
So I whisper, "God, just let it be ok that I keep my eyes open. And make my daddy not look so tired anymore."
All while my mama keeps praying and my daddy keep nodding.
and I keep breathing and sighing.
She huffed and she puffed.
and she blew herself down.
-Nemo.
