I’ve been wrestling with this whole eternal damnation thing. Hell, I’m a god-fearing Christian man, I mean I ain’t been perfect, but I’ve tried to have a pure heart, and I’ve been talking to Jesus since I could remember. When I was a boy I would pray to be the oldest. Ain’t that funny? Like I could just wake up one day, and just all of a sudden be the oldest Paulson boy. Sure, our God is powerful and everything, but Jesus, that kind of shit just don’t happen. See, but it all makes sense now. I heard in Pastor Roy’s sermon a few weeks ago that God answers every single prayer. Not a single prayer goes unanswered, he said. See, sometimes, God answers "No." In that case, I guess God knew what He was doing. Being the baby brother does have its advantages. All six of my brothers are dead. I’m the last one standing.

I’m trying to negotiate with God. I trust He is a reasonable and understanding God. And I know he’s been watching me and Saffron all these years. We’ve probably been to ten thousand church services, and most of the time I’ve been faithful with my tithes. I even give a dollar bill to homeless folks, when I see them, and when I have a dollar bill on me, just in case, cause I do know that there are angels in disguise, checking in on us, testing us to make sure we’re not all talk when we say we love our neighbor. I know all that stuff about "the least of these." So I’m thinking, I’ve done okay with this life. And Jesus, there ain’t no woman with a heart purer than my Saffron’s. I don’t think I’ve ever heard that woman complain in all the sixty-two years we’ve been married. And she has baked her heart out for every single Bake Sale that Church of the Blessed Lamb has had since she’s known how to bake, and I see her, on her knees, almost every morning before the sun is even fully risen. So I know where she will be spending eternity. I just hope I make it up there with her. Cause Christ knows that I can’t bear to be without my Saffron, and we’ve been planning on spending our eternities together, side by side, lounging on the same cloud, living in the same mansion.

I asked God to spare my soul, and to please, please know that what I’m doing isn’t as selfish as it seems. And some might say I’m playing God and that ain’t my place, but really, all I’m doing is speeding things up a little, and sparing Saffron the pain of watching me fall apart.

For years we have argued about which would be worse. Me living without her or her living without me. We each put up a pretty damned good argument, I’d say. Sometimes she’d even start crying, as if it was something more than just a goddamned conversation. Finally, at some point, we figured out the only way to handle this was if we went out together; this way neither one of us would have to say goodbye, neither one of us would have to bury the other, and then die lonely, of a broken heart. This, in spite of what the bible might say or what Pastor Roy might tell me, seems like the only solution.

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