Sitting with K this morning, in the hour before her death, I searched the painting on the wall. I have this same painting as a postcard on the inside of my bathroom mirror. I don't know what it's called. I looked it up just now..."The Soul of the Rose".
We sang "Crown Him With Many Crowns" and these lines held onto me: "His reign shall know no end, and round his pierced feet, fair flowers of paradise extend their fragrance ever sweet."
I know K loved flowers. I imagined her smelling the most amazing smells, the fair flowers of paradise, the soul of the rose, I imagined her smelling them, even then. As she hovered.
I remembered something I saw last week driving. I was stopped in traffic, my window rolled down. I saw two men walking together in a cross walk. I saw both of them had their keys dangling from carabiners, like Peter wears. I know the sound of keys dangling from carabiners very well. But I didn't hear that sound as I watched their keys jangle on the rings. I heard the most lovely chiming sounds. I couldn't make sense of it. I saw the keys, I heard the chimes. And then my eyes darted up as I tried to put it all together. There was a windchime, hung high on the corner of an office building. I heard it singing in the wind. As soon as I saw it, I heard the more familiar jangle of keys as the men walked on. I marveled at that.
When the women sang to K there in her room, did she hear the angels too and wonder which was which was which?
What we see here is such a dim reflection, what will we see face to face, or when? W
hen it is all over here, or somewhere in the middle or sometimes by grace do we see face to face even now?