What wouldn't I do

There are only a few things that even today no one would think of doing. The principle of those being to run over a gravestone with toyota camry. I mean really, if one were to think of doing it at all it would be with some massive, diesel Dodge Ram super duty. After all gravestones are made of granite, and even more importantly to run over a gravestone is to run over death itself. Most people don’t even like to walk across graves, and even grave-robbers won’t disturb a headstone. There is something sacred about those memorials to those who are no longer a member of the human race. For a theist, they are monuments to the Resurrection, and to an atheist they serve as foreboding mementos of loved ones who have ceased to exist and who one day they will join in the nothing of eternity. Hence, neither would ever think of running over one with a toyota camry.

This is perhaps why it is important to note that our beloved girl, with her auburn hair and living green eyes, was neither a theist nor an atheist. She was an agnostic. Her foot was on the brake of her cream toyota camry and her right hand around her neck. She didn’t cry. Her lips were parted and she held her tongue to the roof of her mouth where it stuck, dry from dehydration. She could still read the script, knife-like, on the granite marker of her little-girl.

Mae Everglow 2007-2011 The dearly loved light of our lives.

Mr. and Mrs. Everglow were buried behind her in the Serenity Garden section. But she was just as much Libi’s little-girl as she was theirs. She had been at her one year birthday party. And her two year, and her three year. She hadn’t missed one. Her left hand tightened on the wheel, and the right around her neck. She could feel Mae’s glass blonde hair against her throat, could feel again the weight of her in her lap. She wasn’t dead. She is right her with me.

She slammed the gas pedal to the floor and the car lurched forward. It shattered the stone and rolled over it like it was a trash can or a little boy’s tricycle. Libi braked and turned the key. She sat still in the seat, her foot on the brake, her left hand clinching the steering wheel, and her right around her neck with her nails digging into the flesh. Her breathing was even and she didn’t cry. Libi looked in the rearview mirror.

The entire top of the stone with its inscription was all gone except for the last line:

We will see you again.

Libi wept. She drove home, mad tears reddening her living green eyes. She would see her again.

He will swallow up death forever and...will wipe away tears from all faces.