ALIVE: Chapter 98, Anna

Anna returned to her house after the burial with a parade of neighbors who gathered to fill her home with the opposite of the great loss that was the real condition of it. For a few hours there was chatter and an abundance of food brought in by kind cooks. The sun had set outside, but within those sad and somber walls oil lamps blazed. Anna was grateful for the compassion of her neighbors, but she was tired and confused and wanted to be alone. Deborah asked Anna if she would like her to stay the night, but Anna rejected such a kindhearted request before she really thought about it. The opportunity was gone, and so Deborah was the last to leave Anna with a hug.

 After tidying up a bit, Anna decided to leave the rest for the morrow. She went into her bedroom and glared at the empty bed. Was it really just that morning that she had discovered that Joachim had left her forever? Was it that morning that she held his cold hand and petted his stiff body? “Oh, my husband, where did you go? How could you leave me all alone? Our childlessness sewed us together as two pieces of cloth; there was no gaggle of children to busy us with their chaotic humanity. After our great shame, Mary arrived, and this infant, this toddler, this child kept us bound us to each other for our common devotion of her. She became a stabilizing third leg of our family. Oh, how will I tell her that her beloved father is gone to the place of the dead where his arms cannot reach to hug her and his eyes will never sparkle at beholding her again? Will anyone ever behold our Mary with such adoration, ever again?”

 In the eerie stillness of the room, Anna imagined that she could hear Joachim’s breathing. She knew that the sound of it was coming from within her imagination out of habit, the repetition of it after thousands of days of listening, like the sound of a waterfall fills a man’s head and is still there when he visits the desert. So she stood quietly, closed her eyes and listened until the sound of Joachim breathing faded away and the harsh dead silence of the room consumed the remnant of his breath. She turned and solemnly walked out of their bedroom.

 Sitting in her chair, more thoughts filled the emptiness of the space, Anna wondered whether or not she wanted to sleep in Joachim’s death bed that night. Perhaps she should let the marriage bed adjust to his absence, so she could visit it anew when she would be a little more of her new self than she was at that delicate moment. Anna was so tired of thinking that she soon collapsed into a deep sleep sitting erect in her chair.

 She woke up while it was still pitch black dark and yet she found herself to be alert. Instantly she remembered that she was alone and had fallen asleep in her chair and that Joachim was dead. The memory of planting him in the earth was fresh and frightening. How strange for him to be under the earth. How cold? How is it, she thought, that married souls can be torn apart? Her heart ached an ache of loneliness that was unfamiliar and jarring. Then she remembered her daughter. At that moment She was more grateful than ever before that she had a daughter to love and be loved by. Anna decided at that moment that she would move to Jerusalem to be near her. That would be best. It would be too difficult for her to stay in their empty home without Joachim to care for, to mend his clothes and wash them, to feed, to heal, to talk to.

 She knew that she couldn’t live with Mary in the temple, but perhaps it would be enough to live near her in the big city; to be able to visit more often, and certainly to not have to make the difficult journey by herself as she too was gradually becoming more frail. Before very long she would be eighty years old, just as Joachim was when he died. Anna knew that these were the years to prepare her own soul for her pilgrimage to Sheol. She wondered what Joachim was experiencing at that moment. No one had come back from the dead to tell what it was like. Death was the end, a dark prison of a world where souls go since Adam and Eve. It is a curse; it is a well-deserved punishment. Then she wondered why Eve allowed the serpent to separate her from God’s command. He only asked one thing of them, not to eat the fruit, was that so difficult? Now they have hundreds of laws to obey.  Enough of these thoughts. Anna would pray.

Instead of conversing with herself she began to speak with the Lord, her Maker. “O Lord of the broken hearted, give ear to my words, give heed to my sighing. Listen to my cry, my King and my God for to You do I pray. O Lord, in the night watch you hear my voice; in the morning I plead my case to you and watch. Tell me where in I should go, I will bow down toward your holy temple in awe of You. I will give You, my Lord, the Lord, thanks and sing praise I give to the name of the Lord most high.” On the wings of those words came the affirmation that indeed she needed to sell the fields and the herd but keep her home in Nazareth for Mary. Anna became resolute and peaceful. She would not wallow in her great loss, but instead she would turn her face to Jerusalem where she could find peace.

At that moment, Anna noticed light gently filling her home through any opening it could find. Sunrise had come at last. But now she was sleepy again. Anna threw the blanket off her legs and got up from her chair and walked into her bedroom where the echo of Joachim rested on the bed. Anna crawled in next to him. Soon she was sleeping a restful deep and dreamless sleep.

The heat of the day woke Anna up. She washed her face and hands. And walked into the center of the village to announce that she wanted to sell her fields and flock. She was greeted by everyone who passed her by. Joachim was a beloved elder in the community and his loss was felt by all, which is what made it so much harder for Anna. She felt their grief along with her own continuously welling up within her, to the point that she could not separate their grief from her own. “Oh, my Joachim, where did you go? I want to follow you as I often did, but my body clings to this earth, and my heart clings to our daughter. How will I tell her?”

Anna arrived at the door of Moishe, their overseer since Joachim became too old to work so hard. A cheerful little boy opened it and greeted Anna with a smile. “How refreshing,” she thought, “to behold this child, to be reminded of new life and youth, the boy, so oblivious to her grief, as oblivious as the trees and the birds. As it should be.”

Before Anna could speak, the boy’s mother rushed to the door. “Anna, please come in! How are you? What a silly question? Please come and sit down. May I get you a cup of tea?”

“Thank you, Isabelle, sure, why not? Is Moishe here?”

Thinking that she must have known that he was out in the fields, she resisted reminding Anna. Instead she casually replied, “He is out right now. Can I give him a message Please sit down at the table here. Let me get the tea and some biscuits. Izzie, show Lady Anna the new dradle daddy made you.”

Settled in with their tea, the ladies were ready to talk. “I have come to ask Moishe to help me find a buyer for the fields and herd. I want to be near Mary.”

“Oh, Anna that is a wise decision. I am sure someone can be found, perhaps we can find the sheckles or work out a plan to pay you instead of receiving our earnings.”

“I will also speak to the priest about this.” added Anna.

The rest of the visit was pleasant. Anna was happy to be away from the house, and especially to see the cheerful little freckled face boy with shocking red hair who lifted her gloom.

Gradually over the next few months Anna developed an independence that she never knew was in her. After she sold the property, she knew it was time to go to Mary, even before Passover. She wanted to find a place to live in Jerusalem. She was ready to leave Nazareth with its haunting memories.

The journey from Nazareth to Jerusalem in the caravan was as difficult as ever, but Anna was glad that she would not have to endure it many more times, perhaps only once more. When she arrived, Anna went directly to the boarding house that had been their Jerusalem home ever since they brought Mary to the temple.

“Lady Anna, how good to see you again? In fact, your room is available. How long will you be here this time? Where is your husband? Is he coming behind you?”

Anna bowed her head to come up with the right words to tell the proprietor that Joachim was dead. She had not had to announce his death before since everyone in the village knew from each other. She thought it was good to practice before having to tell Mary.

“My husband has gone to his rest. I am here to tell our daughter, and to find a place to live to be near her. Do you know where I can find a home of my own?” Anna figured that she might as well start her search.

“Oh, I am so sorry to hear that. Joachim was such a fine and gentle man. Yes, I have a friend who deals in property. I can arrange for him to come here to speak with you tomorrow, say midafternoon?”

“Yes, that is kind of you. I will go to my room now, thank you very much.” Anna was anxious to be in her room alone, to gather her thoughts and prepare herself to tell her daughter that Papa had died. She did not know how Mary would take it.

As she sat on her bed contemplating and praying, Anna was reminded that Mary was God’s daughter first and foremost. That it was the Lord who would never abandon her to Sheol, who even now was watching over Joachim. She remembered the psalm, “Where can I go from Your Spirit; where can I flee from Your presence? If I ascend to heaven, You are there. If I make my bed in Sheol, You are there.” Anna shuddered to imagine what Sheol was like.  No, she mustn’t think these things. So she prayed. “Lord God, please guide me, help me to tell Your daughter, our precious daughter that she will never see her father Joachim again on this earth.” Anna then tried to clear her mind of all thoughts and wait for God to speak to her. In her silence Anna noticed a fragrant smell and wondered where it came from. She looked around and saw nothing that could be the source of such beauty. The fragrance was a gift from the Lord. Perhaps it was the message she had been seeking. Anna closed her eyes and laid down surrendering her whole self to God and slipping into a restful sleep.

What Anna didn’t know was that in the predawn morning that Joachim left his body, Mary suddenly woke up in her dormitory. It was still dark out and she saw a light.  All the other girls were sleeping; no one else noticed. It was so strange; she had never seen anything like it before. The light glowed and pulsed. Rather than be afraid, she welcomed the light which comforted her. She remembered that as she had fallen  asleep, she was fretting about her father. He didn’t look strong enough to make the journey back to Nazareth and so she fell asleep praying for him. She sensed that the light was a message about him. Although she didn’t know what it meant, she sensed that her papa had succumbed to the vulnerability of the body, but that her Lord would not allow him to suffer in Sheol forever. She wondered if that was really from the Lord, or just her wish for her papa.  Young Mary relinquished her fears to the Lord. The light faded slowly. She waited for it to return, but when it didn’t, she fell back to sleep to await the dawn.

Several months had passed since that morning. Mary didn’t expect to see her mother so soon, but as soon as she did, she quickly related the visit to that strange morning light.

When she saw her mother alone, she fell into her open arms. There was no need for the announcement that Anna had so feared. They hugged for a good long while as each lady’s heart called out for Joachim to return to it. Mary was weeping in her mother’s arms. Anna was weeping too and wishing that there were some way possible that death could be annihilated. It is too awful. Anna knew how very much Mary adored her father and he adored her. She silently begged God to lift the curse of death. “What can do we do, my Lord, if only we could walk in the Garden with You again? If only Joachim never had to leave this child; she is so young and so innocent.”

The angels hovering over this tender scene, looked at each other, each with a knowing smile. Knowing the future, when the Lord is willing to impart the knowledge, gives them a dimension that can come with calm, even when it follows a cataclysm. After the quick nod, the angels returned to their focus on the tete-a-tete.

Mary was given permission to leave the temple grounds to spend the day with her mother in Jerusalem. They went out looking at neighborhoods and at noonday they visited the man, Jesse, who would help her find a new home. On their way to a place he had in mind, they went by a patch of land for sale. It was a garden near Gethsemane. Mary thought it was beautiful and asked shyly, if mama could buy it and bring papa’s bones to be buried in Jerusalem. “Yes, my darling; I think that might be possible.”

“Then, perhaps our family can be together on, or rather in this earth forever.”

“Oh Mary, what a lovely thought. Jesse, tell the owner we want this plot of land. How much are they asking for it?”

“Yes, my Lady, I will tell him this evening. Now let me show you a nearby home.”

Mary’s sadness subsided under the joy that her mother would live near her in Jerusalem. She wouldn’t have to worry about the journey anymore, and she could be with her mother more often. Knowing that her mother was almost eighty as well, she wondered how many more years they could be together. Mary still adored the house mother, but her own mother, the womb from which she entered the world, and the breast she suckled for three years tugged at Mary’s heart strings and never frayed with time.

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After a few days visit, having found a small comfortable home not far from the temple, Anna returned to Nazareth for the last time. She prepared her home to be closed and packed everything she thought she would need, only the necessities, leaving many of her heirlooms for Mary on the day she would return to reside there. Anna was comforted by the thought that Mary would never be without a home.

The village gathered to honor Anna on her departure. She was pleased to receive such warm expressions of love from her neighbors and friends. The most difficult separation was from Deborah. By then Deborah’s children were adults and she had grandchildren all about her to care for and to love. Anna smiled at the joy of grandchildren, something she knew she would never be able to enjoy.

Even though Anna had made the journey from Nazareth to Jerusalem more times than she could count in the seven years since she delivered her precious daughter to God via the temple, on this particular trip Anna was aware that it would be her last. There was no reason to return to Nazareth and the travel was too difficult for an old woman like her. While bobbing up and down on the donkey which they kindly gave her instead of the camel because it was lower, her mind wondered to the last trip, only months before, which was Joachim’s last. He must have known it was his last trip, for he was so frail at the end. She wondered what he had been thinking and wished that they could have talked about their inner thoughts and feelings more so he could prepare her for her own journey to Sheol. “Oh Joachim, my Joachim, where are you now?”