Nothing made my husband, Tom, and me happier than spending time with our backyard birds.
We didn’t like to venture too far from home because of Tom’s health problems, but we could spend hours sitting outside in the warm sun, watching the birds fly back and forth from the feeders to the old redwood tree.
One summer afternoon, we topped off the seeds and sat down to see who would arrive. Usually, we’d spot a few bluebirds at the boxes we had set up especially for them. Bright yellow goldfinches and orioles might join in.
We were waiting patiently for our guests when a pair of cardinals swooped down from the redwood tree and made a big show of themselves.
Their scarlet feathers stood out against the blue sky and green grass. “What is it people say about cardinals?” I wondered aloud.
“When cardinals appear, angels are near,” Tom said.
Yes, that was the saying I’d heard, and I wanted to believe it. Angels had been on my mind lately. Tom had lived with pulmonary disease for some time, but he had recently been diagnosed with mesothelioma, a rare, aggressive cancer that had caused congestive heart failure. Tom would not survive for long. Doctors had prepared us for the inevitable outcome. At least, they tried; I didn’t see how I would ever be prepared for losing Tom. All too soon, I would need to feel the angels near in a way I never had before. I wanted every moment until then to be precious.
Another flash of red distracted me from my thoughts. A third cardinal had joined the first two at the feeder filled with their favorite sunflower seeds. Other cardinals followed. The brilliant-red males with their jet-black masks. The reddish highlights of the pale-brown females. The understated tones of their feathers only made their orange beaks stand out even more than their counterparts’. I pointed here and there.
“I’ve never seen so many cardinals,” said Tom. “Especially not all at once. Have you?”
“Never!” I said. But that wasn’t the only thing that was odd. I looked around the yard. No sign of goldfinches. No orioles. The bluebird box was empty. “The cardinals seem to be the only birds here for us today!”
Tom and I sat, enchanted. At one point, I counted more than 30 of these visitors. We didn’t go in for dinner until dusk.
The last thing we expected was to see the cardinals again—for the second day in a row. And the third—and even the fourth! The yard remained full of our scarlet-colored companions.
They filled the air with their sweet cheer-cheer-cheer calls, flying around for our entertainment. The yard looked like a sanctuary for cardinals, and it felt like a sanctuary for me. I lost myself in the complete comfort the cardinals brought. The angel saying had to be true.
“It’s been four days,” I said as we got into bed. I started to believe the cardinals might stay forever. That Tom would stay with me forever…
That night, Tom awoke in the wee hours, unable to breathe. He was rushed by ambulance to the hospital, and I spent four days by his side in the ICU before he passed away. I didn’t even wonder if the cardinals were at home waiting for me. Not that I could imagine filling the bird feeder or sitting in the yard. Not without Tom there with me. It had been our sanctuary in our last days together. How could I find any comfort there now?
I didn’t think twice about the cardinals until I walked in the door after Tom’s funeral. Tom will never come home again, I thought. His death felt even more real and final than when he took his last breath at the hospital.
I stepped in the backyard to prove a point to myself. The yard was lonely and empty without Tom. And all those cardinals? I didn’t see even one. “When cardinals appear, angels are near,” I could hear Tom say. But why had they made such a show in the days before his death? Why were angels near then, instead of now when I needed them most?
I thought back to those wonderfully long days when Tom and I had front-row seats to the cardinals’ bright and comforting presence, listening to their cheerful calls as they danced in the air. I’d never forget our precious time together in our backyard sanctuary with our winged companions. Angels were watching over both of us. I imagined Tom’s soul being carried up to heaven on scarlet wings. The memory of those days would always be a comfort, and I had no doubt angels were near.
I filled the bird feeders with extra sunflower seeds for the cardinals’ return. I looked for the bluebirds and goldfinches and orioles. I knew that Tom and I would see each other again too, in a place more bright and cheerful than our backyard could ever be. The songs of angels will fill the air and our faithful guardians will fly on feathered wings, when our heavenly sanctuary is the one that lasts forever.
