The Assumption

You said she came in through the bedroom window
She made no sound
But it was you I did not hear

I had gone to visit my grandfather
          a year or two after his wife
          my Nana, had died
and he was telling me secrets
          secrets you might tell your best friend
          except that he didn't have one.

Then his voice changed,
          he grew quiet and he leaned in closer
          “Do you believe,”
                he asked,
                “in the Virgin Mother?”

Now I was young, and puffed full of that arrogance
          that when I was young I called knowledge

“I believe in Nana,” I said firmly.
          “I believe she lives on in our hearts.”

And he, my grandfather, he fixed me with a stare like I'd never seen
          surprise and anger and two parts disappointment
          like he had been about to offer a diamond to a pig

He sighed deeply, but went on

“I am not speaking about your grandmother,” he said
          just as firmly
         “I am talking about the Mother of God.”

Never, before that moment had I ever heard him speak
          of religion once - unless
          you count the stories
          about sneaking ‘spirits’
          into the church for his brother, Father Ray

“Did you know my brother, Auley...” he asked,
          “Did you know he died young?”

“Yes,” I said. And I did.

“Well, I was alone with Auley,” he said,
          “the night he died
Alone at his bedside as my brother lay there so calmly
I was just a boy, we both were
          and it was just the two of us....

“Auley was a good brother to me
Everyone liked him
We didn't have much money, 

           but his funeral was the biggest I had ever seen
Wasn't one person in town that didn't come
Everyone'd said that he'd be a priest.
          Everyone knew how much he loved God, 

          how much he prayed,
                    especially to the Virgin
I couldn't see how much good it had done him
          I mean, he wouldn't even make it to 18 years old.”

“And then,” he said,
          “I saw Her,
          a strange and beautiful woman
She came in through the bedroom window
She made no sound
But went straight to Auley's bedside and took his hand
Took his hand like it was the most normal thing in the world

“I was confused and afraid,” he said
“I ran to get my older sisters but
          I didn't tell what I saw
They just had to come
          ....now
But when we got back to his room
          both Auley and the Lady were gone.”

“Gone?” I asked.

“His body was there,” he said, “but Auley was gone.”

Then he fixed me with his stare again, 

          “Do you believe me?” he asked.

“I don't know,” I said, not so firmly at all.

A year later,
my cousin, Sister Joan drove me down to see grandpa in the hospital.
People get confused when I say that
She's my Dad's cousin and she's a nun.
The Catholic kind. She works with the poor
           in Guyana.
Everyone else calls her Joanie,
I call her Sister Joan.

I was not prepared for what I found in the hospital that day

My grandfather's face was an image
from the wall of some old European church
          filled with terror and torment
          surrounded here not with flames
but the cold white blue of the hospital room

His unseeing eyes locked on mine
          with such terror and desperation
          from the moment I crossed the threshold
          that I thought
like Marley's ghost
he might scream out
“There is still time for you,
          time for you to save yourself from my fate.”
His lips moved with great effort, but there was no sound at all.
He grasped frantically for my hands
But his fingers passed right through mine as though I were the ghost.

I am sure there were other relatives in the room
But I only remember Sister Joan.
Joanna, named after Grandpa's mother, Johanna
How she went straight to his bedside
As if nothing were unusual
She took his hand
          his hand
          which had passed through mine
          like so much morning fog
she took it 

          and held it
          and stroked it
          as if soothing a fevered child.
She whispered soothing sounds to him that I could not hear.
She reached for a tiny sponge and
used it to wet his tongue and wipe away
          the foam that collected in the corners of his mouth.

Horrified, 

          I just stood at the foot of his bed 

          staring into his unseeing eyes
He stared back at me.
I know you hurt a lot of people, I thought.
You think you are going to hell - and I don't believe in Hell
But it looks like you might already be there.

I did not see my grandfather alive again

Years later, Joanie and I spoke on the phone about that afternoon
And I told her about his vision
And she asked what seemed to me
          a trivial question
“Do you know,” she asked,
          “when Auley died?”

I calmly pulled out my notes
           and read this:
“Joseph Aurelius, nickname: Auley
Died August 15, 1929 of Tuberculosis, he was almost 18

“My grandfather would have been 12.”

Joanie made no sound
and then she said
           just this:
          “August 15 is the feast of the Assumption
the day we celebrate the Virgin taken bodily into heaven.”

You said she came in through the bedroom window
She made no sound.
But it was you that I did not hear

Grandpa, did Auley hear Her?
Did Auley see the Virgin 

          when She came in through his bedroom window?
When She took his hand? Did you see before you ran?
Is that
          what you wanted
          to tell me?

Did you see the virgin come to your bedside?
          When she held your hand and soothed your thirst?

          Did you hear the words she whispered so softly?

Grandpa
          I saw Her.