Your Own Piece of Heaven

Read to the end or check out the comments for the last post to see other replies to my Hell question.  

Thanks to all of you who submitted answers to my Hell question in my last posting. The consensus seems to be that not knowing why you were sent to Hell would be worse than knowing. If you were a real criminal type you’d always think you were innocent and you’d make yourself miserable thinking that somebody framed you and it was all somebody else’s fault!  If you were a one-off criminal you’d beat yourself up wondering what did I do, I wouldn’t do anything bad, it was somebody else’s fault!    

Molesters, pedophiles and serial killing sociopaths  probably don’t care.  They only care about doing the nasty things they do.  Once they go to Hell, most likely they’re put in some kind of cage or cell where they can see all the other souls, but never touch them. You have to wonder if they got loose in Hell if  molesting, raping or murdering a dead soul is as good  for them as a live person. One might think that would be Heaven for them. Except for the ones who get off on eluding the Police. For them, it’s Heaven on Earth.  

What would Heaven be like for regular folks? Would it be a regular one size fits all place, where you wore a toga, drank wine out of fountains and basked by the cloud pool all day without having to worry about sunblock? Sounds a bit boring. How much better could a tan get after 10-20 years of forever, anyway? Besides, one man’s Heaven might be another man’s Hell. If I had to go to the Opera every night I’d be wondering what I did to deserve this Hell and whose fault was it I’m here!  

I’m pretty sure, though I certainly don’t have any inside information, that Heaven is an individual thing.  For a writer, every book would be a bestseller and every script would at least win an Oscar for best original screenplay, and just to add a little excitement, maybe a best picture Oscar. For a salesman every client would be smart, savvy and devious, but he’d always make the sale.  A race car driver would always win the hard-fought race. A sailor (my personal choice) would always have fair winds (whatever his idea of  fair winds is) a safe anchorage and varnish that never needed touch up.  You get the idea.  For the really lucky ones, Heaven would be no different than life. They’d slip on into death and barely notice.  

There is always the question of who gets into Heaven. Do you have to believe to get in? That’s a question for another time and place. Though feel free to comment. To see my personal idea of who goes to Hell, and using the same criteria, to Heaven, read my book Hell Cop.  


What if  a soul meant for Hell was accidentally sent to Heaven? If Heaven is an individual place, how would a detective or bounty hunter find him/her? Would each piece of Heaven border others, or would they overlap, every soul seeing their own little piece of Heaven? Who would be the detective/bounty  hunter’s sidekick? A saint, an apostle, JC himself? Maybe Joan of Arc as a Femme Fatale.  

What if the opposite happened? An innocent soul is sent to Hell by mistake. In that case see my Hell Cop books. I’ve mentioned this before, but what if a soul meant for heaven was kidnapped to hell by a stalker/admirer with a long memory? Could she escape? Would she escape? Would anybody help her?  

What if you got to the Pearly Gates and St. Pete told you your records for the last ten years had been lost and you had to go back and live those ten years over again? And by mistake you remembered  what you had done those years and so had the chance to make them count, not only for you,  but others. What would you do?  

What if God took a vacation and  some slacker/pothead got to be in charge for a week?  

What if the woman/man you loved died. You missed them so much you wanted to die so you could be with them. So you accidently/ on purpose died. In Purgatory they called you on your death – suicide, no Heaven for you. But you got to appeal the decision. What would you say to plead your case? How would you explain the power of love?  

Speaking of which,  I would love to continue on but it’s time to close the Gates for the night and return to my little piece  of Purgatory with a lovely view of the River Styx.  

Other Comments on th Hell question.  

I think the latter would make the story more interesting but the storyline would have to have a positive outcome in the end. People like happy endings or some life revelation unless it has a great twist at the end – similar to the sixth sense movie.
Oh, clearly that I did NOT know what I had done. As a bad guy I would constantly have to review and relive all my transgressions, wondering what — or who — and tripped me up — and I wouldn’t even be able to exact further revenge! 
Worse to be there and not know why (although I could probably guess), since most bad people never really see themselves as bad.






2 Responses to “Your Own Piece of Heaven”

  1. The “What if the man you loved died?” prompt resonated with me because I met the love of my life 2 and 1/2 years ago. Since then I have been experiencing my own wonderful version of heaven here on Earth. It is beyond amazing to share life with your soulmate!

    If the love of my life died, I would be devastated. However, it would not only be erroneous to assume you would be reunited in heaven, but also extremely selfish to kill yourself. What about all of the people here on Earth who still love you?

    I don’t think you just magically float around heaven once your life here has ended. I think of Heaven more as an interim placement where you wait until God and you agree upon your next mission/purpose for your next life.

    There has to be more to life than just one lifetime experience. You could say no one really knows, but actually I believe we all do because we have all been there before. We just don’t remember or we deny remembering because accepting change and transformation is a scary thought and process.

  2. I forgot about reincarnation. That’s a whole other cloud full of What ifs.
    As for the selfishness, unfortunately, in fiction as in real life, not everybody has other people who love them. Or, if the love takes on an obsessive bent, they may not care about the loved ones who care about them.

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