Two

I have known the young man all of his life. Although to me he is eternally young, realistically I admit his middle age is visible on a not too distant horizon,

Many others might view him as on the spectrum or disabled. Not an entirely inaccurate perception unless you venture beyond the mask of privacy that he dons in the presence of strangers. Once the gossamer veil is lifted, the perception changes,

As I grow older at a seemingly faster pace daily, I depend more and more on him for assistance in facing my changing world. He has become my inspiration with his gentle view of the passing parade of humanity who often dare to judge others. My interludes with him challenge me to be kinder.

Twenty years ago his beloved friend and I watched him receive his First Holy Communion in a small church on 31st Street in Manhattan. The next morning when I inquired if he would like to join me for Mass, he quietly replied , “No, I have God now,”. And I understood.

Two decades later we were both devastated by the loss of our loved one, his Grandfather and my husband, even though it was not unexpected.

In the years that have passed, we speak of him often but rarely in the present tense. Last night however I was given an unexpected lesson in belief.

The conversation which is normally casual suddenly veered when the still young man quietly told me:

“I speak to Grandpa in my dreams.”

And I knew it was true because I do the same and now there are two of us who know he is listening.