I have been dreaming of the dead. Of? With?
They've been with me.
Not ghosts. Ghosts don't bother with me. No, really - haunted places are suddenly not haunted when I'm around, and I have plenty of stories to back that claim.
They're kind of oblique, slippery, like they've forgotten how to say things. They feel around for words and meanings and try to catch a hold of what they want to say, but what's clear to them is mud to me.
Mostly I like sitting with them and remembering good times. We laugh.
Shayne's been around, and John Watson, and my grandfather. Someone who is either my father's mother or Amelia Earhart dressing in old-timey flying togs has come to call. Tom Swirble. Even Miss Pat, my father's step-mother. I really liked Miss Pat. I never got to say farewell to her - I was in boarding school and no one told me she was ill, and when she passed I wasn't given the option to go to the funeral. At the time I felt like no one wanted to be bothered with me, and I was left to mourn at school. I mourned quietly and never let anyone see my tears. That wasn't the beginning of a trend, but it certainly helped cement the behavior into place.
So, yeah, the dead are on my mind and I felt like posting some of my thoughts/rituals regarding the passing from one world to the next.
I believe that we honor the dead by living.
To me, Death, that incarnation of immortality, the archetype, is no one to be feared or hated. Death is the final lover, the last dance. The kiss of Death is what carries us away, and that embrace is the ultimate comfort. I don't seek Him (for me, he is male. It is what you need it to be) but I won't run from him when it's my turn.
Prayers for the dead:
May the waters receive her gently,
Wash her clean of all sorrow,
Heal her spirit
Carry her home
May the fire burn brightly for her
Turn her burdens to ash
Warm her spirit
Light her way home
May the winds lift her softly
Clear away her confusion
Help her spirit soar
Help her fly home
May the earth embrace her
Wrap her in a loving embrace
Transform her once more
Now she is home
May her journey to the next life be swift and easy. May she leave behind her all memory of sorrow or pain. May she carry with her the memories of love and laughter and all that was good in her life. May she be met with joy and fellowship by those who went before. If she returns to the circle once more, may she be known by those who loved her in this life.
I'm the one who will laugh at a funeral. I will tell the outrageous story. I will remember how their eyes lit with mischief and how they taught my children inappropriate things. I will not likely weep where you can see, but laugh? Oh, yes, I will. I remember the living. The dead, I honor, but they are gone and what is left is a distillate of recollection. I wish it to be more sweet than bitter, and so I invoke Giggliata, goddess of mirth and merriment, and I send my beloved dead away on a tide of happy tales. I hope when I die, if anyone mourns, they'll mourn with jokes and stories full of warmth and humor.
What about you? How do you feel about death and dying?
Quote of the day...er...week...umm...hey, look, a quote!!
"...besides love, independence of thought is the greatest gift an adult can give a child." - Bryce Courtenay, The Power of One
For old quotes, look here.
For old quotes, look here.