What my heaven would be

I wish heaven was a place of such unending and morphing beauty that every inhale was in wonder and every exhale in thanks. In this heaven I wish I could take all the people that I love and have them meet one another. They’d gather at a barbecue where we all cooked whatever we dreamed over looking Wrigley field in the seventh game of the World Series with the Cubs leading 10 to one. The grass that we stood on would be blue. A crowd would form as my family played my friends in a game of bocce. Every time a ball was thrown a joke would be told funnier than the one before. My Grandma would curse and My Dida would tear from joy. My uncle Bill would snort his nose, slap his knee and wink his eye. My dad would say “I’m going to miss this” and my mom would say “Who’s getting more Bud Ice?” Every where you looked people would be smiling. Everywhere you didn’t look people would be laughing. The sun would come down after the Cubs had won the series. Someone would build a bom fire and another would bring lawn chairs and sleeping blankets for everyone. The fire would put itself out as we all laid back following the falling stars into vistas. No one would speak. We would listen to the crickets and oppossum and deer move around us. Then we would all fall asleep at the same time thinking about one another.