Memorial Day

Photo found here and copied entirely without permission but not without respect.

For a history of this day, go here. Or here. Or here. In a nutshell, Memorial Day is for remembering the fallen.  Perhaps one day, we won't have any new graves to decorate. Until then, I remember and (as best I can) I honor.

~~~~~
In Flanders Fields by John McCrea

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead.  Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from flailing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields

For the Dead

I have been dreaming of the dead.  Of?  With?

They've been with me.

We talk.

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?

Mother's Day at Casa de Crazy

I'm a bit late in the day writing this, but I haven't had a chance to open up Albino Bob the Wonder Computer until just now.

Strictly speaking, most of Mother's Day wasn't actually at Casa de Crazy, as we opted to haul our little gaggle of chaos on up to Mom's to celebrate there.

Sprout decided that for other's Day, I should have her company in the big, comfy bed at about 3:00 AM and enjoy her thrashing about and general covers-hoggery.  She's a giver, that one.  She also decided that I needed to have her little squeaky toy version of Grumpy Bear of Care Bears fame (Mizz A will understand better than most what a big deal that is). 

We slept in, if "slept in" means I was thrashed by my daughter, walked on by cats, and had to pee twice, all before 10:00.

After giving up on any more sleep, I decided to give the mama cats in the garage a Mother's Day treat - they're being such wonderful mamas, especially for first-timers, they deserve a little something special.  I mixed up some cat food with drippings from the chicken I roasted last night, and then added a little chopped chicken meat.  They appreciated it, and I loved on the babies for a while.  Oh, lort, these kittens are freakin' cute!

Then it was off to the grocery store to get lunch, some flowers, and a cookie cake, and on up to Mom's.

Mizz A joined us.  It was nice, laid back.  We had lunch, the kids and Mizz A played out in the yard and Mom and I played in her garden, then we enjoyed some cookie and came on home.

Home again, I've been doing dishes and drying laundry and am now about to fold a couple of baskets of clean clothes for the kids.

For me there were no flowers, no balloons, no breakfast in bed or spa day, none of the things that are supposed to be the usual Mother's Day...but I'm good.  I enjoyed my Mom, I enjoyed playing in her garden and chatting with her and Mizz A, enjoyed listening to my kids play, and I even enjoy (maybe just a tiny bit) folding the laundry and getting the dishes done.  I'm going to enjoy the fried chicken I picked up on the way home, and the mashed potatoes and caramelized canned corn I'm making for dinner, and I'm going to enjoy watching a movie of some kind after the kids and I come in from playing outside/watering the garden.

Simple gifts, yo.

Happy Mother's Day to any and every person who mothers, in whatever fashion.  We're pretty freakin' amazing.

Happy Beltane (another re-post)

Happy Beltane, for those who celebrate.

If you'd like to know a bit about the holiday, go here. Or here. Or here. Or Google search Beltane and duck before your computer spits out a load of links. When you're done reading, come back and giggle because I said "load of links". I won't tell.

Meanwhile, perhaps I will find something to burn and roast marshmallows over this evening, the closest thing to a Beltane celebration I'll have this year. Sigh.