Mary on the Dashboard

I keep the Virgin Mary on my dashboard, the little one with the magnetic base that wobbles when I take corners too fast.

I got her from my mom, who got her from the priest at my First Communion, back when the church still had Father Paul, who drank too much and everyone knew it and nobody said anything because he was good with the dying.

And I’d drink too if I were good with the dying.

Because that would probably mean I’m at peace with death.

And if Father Paul was at peace with death, then he must have been right with God.

And I’m not gonna throw away a dashboard doll from a man who was right with God.

So Mary has been on three dashboards now.

The first car got totaled (not her fault).

The second I sold to my cousin.

And this third is where she sits now—

except for when she gets knocked off

by *My Mary,

who isn’t a virgin

and doesn’t mind being mounted at an angle.