A Visitation

A Visitation

She had finished her breakfast downstairs in the resident dining hall. I wheeled her back into her apartment at this Senior Residence.  I placed her in front of the window. She likes to look out the window. I picked up my sweater and saw a feather resting on the sleeve. I casually and innocently said, 
     "Oh nice, I found a feather on the sleeve of my sweater.  An Angel is here."  
She looked at me with alert eyes. 
    "What?" 
    "Oh when I find a feather, I know Angels are near by." 
I said this matter of factly. Her very blue eyes sparkled at me and held me in suspended silence for 10 seconds. I felt she was wondering if I was going to say anything else, so I did…
     "I love Angels."  
     "I do too."
As our morning pattern continued, reading the daily paper – well she looks at it more than reads.  Sometimes she asks me to read a caption under a picture. Sometimes I point to a picture in the advertising section and she says the word and seems happy that it came out okay. At 87 years, she has a growing brain tumour which is effected her speech as well as walking, to name a few of her life's changes. However, she is present…her being is very, very present.  

She puts the paper down and looks out the window. I look at her anticipating that she needs something. There is a kind of wonder in her eyes. She has a hard time speaking full sentences most of the time. Often they come out quickly as if she were to wait a second longer they would not be pronounced. She blurts out ...
     "What beautiful colours." 
Her blue eyes are sparkling again. I turned around to look where she was looking. Without saying I see what you mean, which would have been a lie, as I did not see the colours, I asked her.. 
     "What colours do you see?"
She made the shape of an o with her mouth but the wordwas not arriving easily. 
     "Orange?"
     "Yes, orange." 
She smiled.  
     “So many".  
     "So many colours?"
     "Yes”
     "Do you see the colour blue?" 
     "Yes." 
     "Yellow?"
     "Oh yes. Lots of yellow."  
     "Purple?" 
     "Yes."
    "Do the colours look like the northern lights?  Like the Aurora…"
She interrupted me with a determination in her voice.
     "No, it’s not that."  
Silence again. She kept looking out with wonder in her eyes.
     "You are lucky to see the colours."
     "So are you."
We had a little giggle. Her giggles are affirming to her and me. She reached for a chair (that had wheels attached) and pulled it slowly to her side, and looked back out where the ‘colours were’.
      "This chair is for Richard." 
She placed her arm on the armrest of that other chair, her fingers moving as if she/they were holding hands. She looked at me to say something.
     "Thanks for sharing what you see with me."  
She gave me a smile and turned her head towards Richard.
I stopped the questions. 

I trust, I witnessed a visitation as I felt a calming and beautiful presence sitting beside her.
I trust, Angels show up when we have the faith to believe in them and their signs. 
I love Angels.

Denise Bertrand