Bill and Moira were married for more than 40 years. They lived in a beautiful home overlooking a lovely lake and garden.
You could count on seeing them together at Mass each Sunday, and it was only at the end of Moira’s life that I realized Bill did not actually belong to that church but nonetheless faithfully accompanied her.
They did everything together: golf, bridge, dancing and socializing. They were now, in their retirement years, reaping the rewards of lots of hard work and sacrifice in raising their family.
And then came the news. Moira was diagnosed with a fast-growing pancreatic tumor, and she was declining quickly. They would greet me, each time I visited, sitting together at the kitchen table sharing a cup of tea.
They were a very devout couple with a deep and abiding faith in God and in each other, and they remained that way always. In the evening, before dinner, it was their habit to sit together in their lovely master bedroom, sipping a glass of wine, listening to beautiful music. Moira died there, with Bill beside her, many days too soon for them.
A few weeks later, Bill called and asked to see me. He seemed upset and anxious to talk. “Please don’t think I’m crazy,” he said, “but I have to tell you what happed last night. I was sitting in our bedroom, thinking about Moira and how much I missed her, when all of a sudden she was standing in front of me.
“She was dressed in a beautiful white gown that seemed to shine from within and came toward me with her arms open wide. I stood up to dance with her and could feel her arms around me, her cheek and her body close to mine.
“After a minute or so she leaned back and looking directly at me, let me know that this was the only time she could come to me this way. There were no real words, but when she smiled, I understood that she wanted me to be at peace. She was so beautiful and happy, as if she was young again.”
I knew then that Bill would find his way.
