God’s iPad It is dark in the room when my son, newly six, asks me to cuddle. I am holding him, smelling his curls when he says, (carefully and clearly, as though he understands things I can't possibly, but needs me to hear) God has an iPad He watches us, all the people in the world Billions of people Seeing us in every moment, all the time He can visit anyone he likes He can replay a memory from anyone's life He can see what we do, who we love, who we hurt the mistakes we make, all the bad and all the good all he has to do is touch the screen on a person's face to see the story of their life play out like a tv show that never ends. I am quiet. I don't know if I believe in God, but I believe in something. I believe in my son, who has lost his third tooth and speaks with a lisp. Does it make you feel comforted I ask, that he is always watching? (I myself am unnerved, the unknown shadows menacing darkly on the wall). I am his mother so I do what comes naturally, pull him tighter, listening to the rapid thump thump thump thump of his now six year old heart Yes he answers with absolute certainty his voice calm, Even in the times when I feel sad he sees I am sad, it feels like there is a creature inside me, it's a small thing, but heavy it sits in my chest God knows it's there God understands it It makes me feel better knowing he is watching, listening And then the creature will go away And I'm not sad anymore I hug my son tighter. He is just six, loves easily, has faith in a way I might not ever know something he found inside himself, maybe the creature has it, maybe it can teach us to hug a little tighter, imagine that all of us, on God's iPad embracing.
Lauren Meir is a writer and communications professional who works out of Detroit. She has lived in both Europe and the Middle East, writing her way through countries and cultures. Her work has appeared in the Huffington Post and the Detroit Jewish News, and she is currently submitting poetry and creative nonfiction to lit magazines while working on her book. You can find her at laurenmeir.com or on twitter at @LaurenMeir.
Amethyst Review 