At long last together, they truly are angelic letters.
The angels on high had brought the letters together as they did Jenny and him. It was the promise of angels fulfilled. They had answered their prayers albeit the reunion had been short lived.
Henry tucked the two letters back into his pocket and walked over to Jenny. Strangely, he no longer felt sad at the sight of her lying there. She was gone and so it seemed, was the mourning he’d felt earlier when she departed. She was dead and yet alive, although invisible.
Could Father have given his life for Jenny?
The nightmare he had was so real and it would be something Father Engelmann would do. When Henry had recalled that nightmare so many times over the years, he had thought the man in the tan suit, wearing the yellow flower in his lapel was Father. The thought was absurd and yet when he looked for Jenny laying there on a bed of white daisies, there was Father Engelmann. He was certain of it.
Henry gazed lovingly at Jenny. Her lips drew his. They felt strangely warm as he bent over and kissed his Sleeping Beauty for the longest moment.
Glancing upwards, he surveyed the room again. Her presence was so strong, but where was she? He glanced at Jenny. An awkward feeling inched through him, confusing perhaps, but not frightening; rather, he would have to say, quite comforting.
Chapter Thirteen
Nurse Johnson was heading down the hall towards him as he left Jenny’s room. She studied him and was surprised how revived he appeared.
“Well, you seem to look a bit more rested.”
“Yes, the little nap did seem to revive me somewhat”
“The girls all left. Your daughter-in-law wants you to call her as soon as you are able. Matilda and Chloe are staying at the same hotel and left their phone number where they can be reached.”
Nurse Johnson took the slip of paper out of her pocket and handed it to Henry. “I also wrote down Mr. Hamilton’s phone number for you as well if you care to call him.”
Henry took the note, looked at it, nodded and put it into his pocket.
“The ladies are a little concerned about the funeral arrangements. Apparently Mr. Hamilton wants the body flown back to Ottawa. He wants to have some kind of a State funeral for his wife… or rather former wife. I thought I would pass that along to you.”
A silence passed between them. Henry hadn’t thought of burying Jenny and the place of her interment. He hoped that she would be placed to rest in Regina and not away again in Ottawa.
Oh, God, not again…
“Yes, it does seem right for her to be buried back home…” His words trailed off. They did not reflect at all what was in his heart. He wanted Jenny with him, never to part again. Perhaps she could be buried next to the plot that he had reserved for himself beside Julean.
Wouldn’t that be something, buried between the two loves of my life?
“I’ll discuss it with the girls and either they or I will make the necessary arrangements. One of us will be in touch with you later today, or first thing in the morning. Thank you again for letting me see Jenny.”
“I am glad I let you in, as well,” replied Nurse Johnson. “It would have been a mistake had I not done so. And I will warn you, when you talk about funeral arrangements with Matilda, you may be in for some strong objection to that kind of talk. She wouldn’t accept Ms. Hamilton’s passing. She fully believes that Jenny is going to be healed, even in the face of an obvious death. She thinks Jesus is tending to other business today. ‘Maybe it’s a nice day in heaven,’ she said, ‘and He’s gone fishing in one of them there streams. Same thing happened when Lazarus died,’ she went on, ‘He was busy at that time too, and didn’t hurry home. But when He did, He woke that man up and Lazarus walked out of his tomb after four days! Yes, ma’am, He will be doing His healing in His own way and time, you just wait and see.’”
Nurse Johnson smiled and then added, “I hope her faith won’t be affected too much by all this; she is such a strong, powerful lady for the Lord, but in for a disappointment, I’m afraid.”
Henry nodded once more and smiled. It made him think of Father Engelmann. Those two could be two peas in a pod. He would have to phone his mentor as soon as he got home and let him know what happened.
Henry could feel Nurse Johnson’s stare behind him as he walked away. But even more so, he felt Jenny’s presence. It was so real and palpable, almost as if another person in real life were right beside him. He was still in a daze, not really knowing what to do next. The farm is usually where he wanted to go after a hectic day; the quietness of the country and nature always soothed him. And he still felt somewhat drained and exhausted by the roller coaster of emotions he felt so far and yet, it was Marjorie’s house that seemed to beckon him. Yes, he thought, perhaps a shower and nap there is what he needed more than anything.
As he strolled towards the elevator, the word ‘quickly’ popped into his mind. Jenny said it just before she passed away. Each time he thought of it, he felt compelled to complete the phrase that accompanied it.
“Hold my hand.” Henry turned to his left expecting to see Jenny, but there was nothing, just the wall of the hallway with a picture here and there along the way. The phrase came again, only stronger this time, along with an irresistible compulsion to reach out for his sweetheart’s hand. Henry raised his arm and opened his hand as if she were there extending her hand to him, as she did so many times during that memorable summer. He felt silly and yet it felt so right at home and… so wonderful.
As the elevator descended, Henry thought of the conversation he had had earlier that morning with Father Engelmann. He felt certain it was Father and his prayer group’s prayers that kept Jenny alive long enough for them to see one another and kiss before she died. Jenny was so ill, so weak, she could barely speak. Prayer can be very powerful, Henry thought. He was glad that he believed in it. He was surprised that he was not upset with God for not healing Jenny totally.
And the dream… what did it mean? It seemed so real to see Father lay down his life for Jenny. I fully expected Jenny to wake up and be healed. Maybe it’s in her spirit life that she has come back?
The elevator stopped abruptly, interrupting his thoughts. His hand was still extended as he left the elevator and walked across the lobby to the front door. It was crowded, and most people dodged his arm thinking perhaps he had a cast on under his jacket, while others bumped into it. Henry tried to pull it in, but it just felt so heartwarming and soothing, like Jenny was striding along next to him, her warm hand in his.
The bright sunlight was blinding as he stepped into fresh air. He drank in a deep breath of air and then another, it felt good to be outside, almost hot enough for him to take off his jacket. Most of the snow had melted and it looked like they were in for an early spring.
As soon as Henry got to his vehicle, his arm suddenly fell back to his side. Once seated and strapped in, however, he reached out his right hand to the passenger seat. He turned, but the seat beside him was empty except for Marjorie’s diary which he’d brought with him from the farm that morning.
“Oh, God, I hope I’m not losing it like at Marj—Jenny’s place.” Jenny couldn’t be beside him…could she?”Henry shook his head and backed out his SUV, narrowly missing someone who he hadn’t noticed. As he made his way to the street and off to Marjorie’s place, the word ‘quickly’ entered into his mind, followed immediately by, “Quickly, hold my hand.”
Henry looked beside him, but nothing was there. Yet, he couldn’t help himself; he slowly extended his right arm and grabbed hold of a very warm, comforting hand and together, their hands settled on the diary.
Chapter Fourteen
In making her final rounds before her shift for the day was over, Nurse Dianne Frowler peeked into the chapel to see if Father was still there.
“Holy Toledo!”
It looked like a battle field. The chairs, usually arranged neatly in rows and facing the altar ready for the next day’s Mass, lay all over the place. Song she
ets were strewn all about as well, and Johnny’s wheelchair was lying on its side, several feet from the piano and neither Johnny nor anyone else was in sight.
“What on earth happened?”
She had heard them singing and hooting as they sometimes did when they got carried away, but this was so unusual for them to leave the chapel in such disarray. And where would Johnny be without his chair? Could he have possibly been healed? The group had been exceptionally loud today.
Dianne quickly picked up the sheets and righted the chairs. She knew Doris was concerned about Father’s prayer sessions and if she saw this, she might cancel the Bible studies. That would be devastating to the residents.
As Dianne made her way back to the station to sign out, she noticed Father sitting in his favourite chair in the sun room.
“Good-bye, Father, see you tomorrow.”
Dianne kept walking down the hall and then stopped, “That’s funny. He didn’t say good-bye like he usually does.” Dianne turned and walked slowly back to the sun room. Even before she got there, an ominous feeling gnawed at her stomach. She forced herself to peek into the room. He looked asleep and as usual, clad with that slight benevolent smile on his face. He appeared in perfect peace. His head was tilted back on the high back of his favourite chair, with his eyes closed and his hands holding the Bible on his lap.
“Father, I’m leaving. Father…?” she called louder. Was he asleep or… she gazed at his chest, looking for some kind of movement. There was none. Slowly, she walked towards Father, her eyes glued on his chest and then his eyes, his hands, searching for any sign of life, a flicker of the wrists, eyes, anything to relieve the dread building up within her.
“Oh, God, no. Not Father Engelmann. Oh dear Lord, we need him so much…”
Tears welled up in Dianne’s eyes, she was too choked up to say anything or call out for help. “Oh, Father David, we love you so much.”
Hesitantly, she went over to Father and put her hand on his cheek. He must have just passed on, he still felt warm. She let her hand fall down onto Father’s. Unhurriedly, she wrapped it around Father’s wrist and felt for a pulse. She knew none would be there; it was more a reflex action from her nurse’s training, following procedure. She had seen death before and knew what it looked like, but more so, felt like. The oppressive feeling sweeping over her was confirmation enough that Father was dead.
She stared at the beloved priest for a long moment and then bent down and kissed him on the forehead. “Good-bye, Father, I loved you as much as my own dad.”
The conversation she had with him earlier that morning came to mind. He’d known he would meet the Lord, today. His wedding suit was a clear sign. “It’s going to be a special day for me,” he had told her. “Yes, he knew,” muttered Dianne.
The open Bible on his lap caught her attention and when she walked around behind him, she wasn’t surprised to see it open to the 23rd Psalm:
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want;
He makes me to lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside the still waters.
He restores my soul;
He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
For You are with me.
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil;
My cup runs over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life;
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Dianne could barely read the last sentence, but she finished it from memory. Tears obscured the writing. She retrieved a tissue from her pocket and wiped her eyes and the tip of her nose.
“Yes, Father, you were a shepherd, too. You looked after your flock and now He has prepared a table for you. Your cup will run over and you shall rest in the house of the Lord, forever.”
Just below the bottom of the page lay his bookmark, which must have slid down from the open Bible. She reached over his shoulder and picked it up. It was a narrow elongated stiff cardboard covered with a plastic coating. A golden frayed ribbon was tied through a small hole at the top. It had the prayer of peace by Saint Francis of Assisi printed on it. Father had recited it every day at the close of the prayer meetings and the Bible study. Not only did he read it, he had also been a living example of it.
Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light:
Where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may seek not so much to be consoled
As to console;
To be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to love;
For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that
We are born to eternal life, Amen.
Dianne’s eyes filled with new tears. She wondered if this was the last prayer he uttered before he passed on or was it the 23rd Psalm?
“Oh, Father, you lived the life of a saint. You were just like Saint Francis. You brought such love into this home. How fortunate we all were to be blessed with your presence. What are we going to do without you?”
Weakness inched its way through Dianne. It had been a long day for her to start with and now this. She plopped herself down into the chair beside Father and let out a long sigh. She leaned forward towards Father and placed the bookmark back onto his Bible. She thought about keeping it as a memento, but thought better of it. It was Father’s, and he may have willed it to someone already and maybe he was watching.
As Dianne sat there gazing at the man she loved and respected so much, she thought about the time when she had applied to work at the care home in response to an ad in the Leader Post paper:
Wanted: a very special, kindhearted person, sensitive to the needs of others, and willing to care for seniors as if they were your mother or father. Please apply to the Nunnery Care Home, with a resume.
It was an intriguing ad. She’d always had a special place in her heart for older people and felt prompted to apply. It was the best decision she ever made.
First, Doris had interviewed her, then Father Engelmann. It was unusual to be interviewed by a priest. He was so kindly. But behind those friendly eyes, he analyzed every inch, thought and nuance she made.
Fifteen minutes into the interview, Father stood and said, “Yes, yes, Dianne, you are the answer to our prayers. Please wait here a moment.” Father had left and returned with Doris a few minutes later to tell her she’d been hired.
Dianne accepted on the spot. Father Engelmann had been standing in the wings, with that sweet benevolent smile of his.
On her first day working at the care home, she thought she was in heaven. She couldn’t get over how full of life and love the home was, how everyone mixed, how friendly and loving they were to each other and how much they were like a family. Some didn’t have families anymore and were all alone, but through Father’s example and encouragement, they began to love each other and care for each other so much. They more than made up for the lack of family. And the families and relatives that did come were so touched with the presence of love and peace in the care home, that they actually came to be filled.
Once people experience what love can do, they see what their hearts are really longing for.
“Thank you for hiring me, Father, I know it was your influence that made Doris pick me from the several other nurses that were much more qualified.”
“It’s not your credentials, Dianne,” Father used to tell her. “It’s what is in your heart that is important.”
Dianne s
miled and gazed lovingly at Father. “You were such a strong leader, yet you always encouraged us to lead, as well. But who now is going to carry out the Bible classes, do the bingo, card games, the sing-a-longs, visit the hospitals and other care homes, and the magazine you started and… oh my gosh, the Masses?”
Mrs. Dance rolled by in her wheelchair. She stopped when she saw Dianne sitting beside Father and wheeled into the room. One look at Father and she instantly knew in her heart, Father was gone.
“Oh, Lord, what will we do without him?” she murmured.
Dianne was so engrossed in her thoughts, that she didn’t see or hear Mrs. Dance at first, until she said, “He’s gone, isn’t he?”
“Yes, Frances, he has gone to be with the Lord.”
Frances slowly rolled her wheelchair up beside Father and placed her hand on his. Tears welled up in Frances’ eyes.
“Well, I better get some help and call the ambulance,” said Dianne.
“No, no, please don’t move him, yet,” pleaded Frances. “Let’s tell the others and bring them here. Perhaps they may want to say good-bye, too.”
“Of course, that’s a wonderful thought, Frances. Would you please tell the others? I’ll stay here with Father.”
Mrs. Dance grasped the wheels of the chair with her feeble hands and with all her might, thrust them forward. The wheelchair sprang to life and sped down the hall, weaving from side to side, almost toppling over. As Frances whizzed by Elmer’s room, she shouted, “Come to the sun room, quick. It’s Father. He needs us.” And on she went, from one room to another, like a town crier or a messenger of the Lord, telling all, that their beloved shepherd had gone home.
One by the one they came, some were already in tears, sorrow and joy written all over their faces. Without even being told, many sensed Father’s passing even before they entered the sun room. A few who didn’t know were frozen in shock. Everyone comforted each other. To most of the residents, though, to die was not a sad affair. It simply meant one was passing from their earthly life to greater life with their Lord. However, they would miss their dear friend and consoler deeply.
Angel Promises Fulfilled Page 7