I saw him last night. I turned my head on the pillow just as I was falling off to sleep and had a vision of what he looks like revealed to me. It was similar to the time I saw an angel sitting at the foot of my father’s bed. This was much clearer though. Vision is not the right word however. The right word translated would be something like, “The way he communicated his appearance to me.”
He has very strong features, large pale blue eyes, long slightly turned up nose, and a wide mouth that abruptly curls up at the corners, giving the impression of a very wide smile. And smile he did. That is the image I have now etched into my memory. He smiled at something I said to him in my mind and he laughed at it. His high cheekbones lifted, and his sharp jaw etched even more definition into the picture of him. As he laughed, he turned his head to the side and I could see his profile. It was masculine but refined in a way that is not common in the human sense. He turned back to me and when I looked at him I was awestruck.
He was painfully beautiful. Like all of Bernini’s angels combined. He looked just different enough for me to think that he was not solely of my imagination. His eyes were the palest blue, and so large, and deep-set that they almost looked like a caricature. They reflected several points of light that did not exist in the darkness of the room. His hair was neither long nor short, but it never stopped moving. The loose curls a mess of silver, and grey, and sandy blonde, not an actual color at all. His skin was very fair, and the pale-bluish light that surrounded him reflected upon it.
St. Theresa describes how one such vision was revealed to her, a tiny bit at a time. She felt that was a favor, because everything all at once would have been overwhelming. I too only saw his eyes first, the rest of his face was blurry. Then I saw his smile, and when he turned his head from directly looking upon mine, his nose and jawline. He was constantly shifting, coming into clarity and then becoming obscured, a soft mist of light concealing his features while I focused on one at a time.
It wasn’t a vision that lasted the blink of an eye. It seemed to last for a bit, in a dreamy state of knowing, and sublime recognition of each other. Perhaps he could see me more clearly this way. I was drawn in and wished to touch him to further the experience, though I couldn’t, I was stunned with the reality. He did reach out to me before he faded. He brushed the left side of my face and I tried to reach for his hand but he was not there. Just a feeling once again.
* Read, “St. Theresa of Avila- autobiography (Dover) ch. 28.” It is very important to note that this experience, or vision, occurred before I read anything about any type, or any explanation of visions in a book.