"heavenly father, are you really there?"

grandmothers are born to die,
and so are their children
and their children's children.

my great grandmother passed away when i was five
i remember my grandma showing me her body;
her eyes were so cold.
her hands were so cold.
she was so cold.

i ran up and down the aisles of the church singing "a child's prayer" with my cousin
but the only part i knew was "heavenly father, are you really there?"
i had no idea that the mindless singing would turn into desperate pleading which would dissolve into nothing more than hopeless heartache.

"heavenly father, are you really there?"

10 years later that same cousin almost died because she hated herself so much.
so maybe that is the answer.