Words are still not enough

Sunday, April 30, 2006, Night of the Dead Eventide (Wiccan Samhain)

Words are still not enough ...

Not nearly enough to describe how we miss our boy – even now. What a day it was.
We had Lucifer put down and I still don’t know whether I am to blame or whether I did the only right thing. I guess grief is like that.

He had a sudden brain tumor bleed which effectively started his journey. Those of you who had met Lucifer I am sure will be feeling some of the same things we are at this time.

It all happened about an hour after he walked over purposely and licked Raistlin on the crown of his head (first voluntary contact) and then went back to his customary spot on the arm of the couch.

Lucifer was taken to the vet hospital at about 2 the next morning and was diagnosed free from bodily toxin or physical pain. We picked him up at 8 in the morning. He was unable to make sense of any but audio sense data and had a slight palsy of the right front leg.

He came home and spent some time sitting on his mat in the sun with his family overlooking his world in the sun. By lunch time he had deteriorated further and so we took him to the Kessel's rd clinic where it was observed by the vet who had treated him prior to this with surprise:

"He's hollow! I mean the body is functioning but he simply isn't in there anymore!"

He passed quietly with his head in my hand and Santina's hand stroking his back.

We took him home and he spent the afternoon watching over the yard while I made his coffin. He was buried in the side yard just before twilight.

He assisted us and protected us for well over a decade in which he stole everyone's heart. He stayed at his post right until the end - doing the only thing he ever wanted to do. He watched over his family and kept them safe.

Some part of him has let us know he will remain doing so - especially his new little brother. He passed his blessing over just prior to leaving for the vet hospital. He knew.

We have all coped as well as could be expected. Knowing that everything is as it should be is one of those things one has to just cope with. It is salved to some degree when we behold Raistlin. He is warm and we will keep him that way. He is not as furry as he used to be but he does always want to be cuddled. It is our boy in our arms.

Now he learns to walk again in our home. He lives in our lives. He has not forgotten us.

Our connections made sure that the rest of him got to where is it always warm in the sun, where it is dinner time all the time and all the little scurrying things always let you catch them.

And just in case we might have started to think about this time in a manner that is symbolic, my Aunt died yesterday. Just in time for her to be celebrated this year.

E. was one of the very few people years ago who comforted a very young unwed girl carrying a child. When the easier thing to do in a world where such a thing was still considered shameful would have been to, (as some suggested) contact various agencies and consider adoption etc., she offered to take her in and care for her and her forthcoming child.

In this respect she was one of the people largely responsible for me surviving and becoming the man I have become.

I remember her and her home. I remember the quality of the colours in the dust that swirled through the shafts of sunlight in the room before the hallway leading out to the back yard. I remember the crispness of the air – a chilly New South Wales morning and the distinctive quality it gave the air and the way things looked. I remember the caramel colour on the coat of their crazy little dog and the smell of her home. I remember her and her husband looking kindly upn me and holding me as one does with children.

I remember the joy expressed to us by them in response to the news that I now had a son of my own. I remember thinking that it was right that I now heard their words being said as they looked at a photo of a new born boy who so much resembled me. How the world turns.

She died yesterday and my mother and her mother still grieve. I think they will grieve for some time yet. I will grieve too. Just enough. Then I will remember that she was very old and was forever getting sick. I will remember that her husband has for a while been incapacitated. I will remember that they loved each other a great deal and so it is unlikely that she will have to wait long for him. I will remember that they will be happy and free from care. Tonight I will drink to them. I will drink to the happiness they had and to the happiness they will have. I will drink so that E will know I remember her as she was in my vision when I went to see her on her bed – a young girl a little apprehensive of a new life stretching before her. I will drink so that E will know that she is remembered while she waits.

I will drink while we have guests here and I don’t believe I will tell them why. I will drink and smile and laugh as this is the best sustenance the spirit has. I will think of E and drink to her and to the easing of my mother and grandmother’s grief. Perhaps in that way I will be able to grieve while staving off the pain that covers everything every second I am away from my wife and son at the moment.

This is my pain. Welcome to the Night of the Dead.

But all reminiscences aside, I have noted with some amusement recently that some people are squawking loudly in some alarm at being forced to finally face the music of truth …. That their actions have come home to roost – well that is another thing that this time of year is all about I guess! “Oh no! There are things happening!” they cry.“Things that I do not understand, things that I fear, things that I do not agree with – so I am distressed!”

Apparently to many these days this is not simply interpreted as the way life is – it now needs to be some mystical conspiracy against them. Hell as it is all about them .. and this seems unpleasant well … that would only make sense …… wouldn’t it?

The fact is that all progresses as it should. Some of it is what simply is and some of it is that which was set in motion many years ago. The deep secret machines keep on working irrelevant of who, (if any) set at the helms. They require greasing and they select the choicest cuts for themselves. That is also for those with eyes – simply the way things are. Some is the effect of those who are older stirring in their rest. Many with specialised diets and views that would seem alien to many who are new have woken for a brief time to do as they have always done. Heroes stalk in search of opposition, leaders talk in search of followers and all these and more view the sudden actions of the young for that which they are – being wet because one was splashed with water from another’s bucket.With many older practitioners, their intentions and emotions easily spill out and leach through the air. Their thoughts are screams which are often easily misinterpreted as one’s own voice and drive by those who are young and easily swayed.

Yes there is unrest – and there should be. Yes there will be all forms of strange signs – and there should be.Yes the herd will be thinned – and they should be. Yes some will see this as the cycle out of synch – and they should do. Those that fall outside their allotted times are those who are the reasons for the synch out of step. Those that find themselves instrumental in the correction of such are simply that – fulfilling their roles. The same can be said for the roilings, sound and fury of ancient desires being fed towards their apotheosis.

THIS is why of old people did NOT seek out magic – they simply locked their doors and viewed with suspicion any stranger out in the wilds. It is called common sense.

Some people do not like surprises when they feel at a loss for explanation. Perhaps only in this way will they learn. Lessons should never be softened – even for those who are loved. They are to be endured, they are to be learnt from. Even lessons need to eat.

What to do!?

But what do we *DO* for this night? Well if you have access to a lovely cemetary where you are unlikley to be disturbed then you should go there with some food and drink. This is even better if this is a cemetary that someone from your past is resting. In that case you should go to their place and have a long chat.

Take a seat and just chat quietly – you know the way that you do with really good friends. Talk about the things that have happened – what you have done and seen, bits of gossip or things you think someone with no news might find interesting. When you run out of words then just sit for a while.

When you feel the time is right then get your food and drink out. Eat and drink. Think about your dead, recall all those good times and how much you miss them. When you have finished your meal then clean up if neccassary and say out loud the name of whoever it is you would see again. Form the image of them in your mind as clearly as you can and then lie down.

Lie down and get comfortable. Keep the image of them in your mind and in your mind’s eye continue calling to them. If you can continue this until you fall asleep then you will awake with precious memories.

If you can’t get to a cemetary then take a black candle and light it in the name of the person you would be visited by. You will cook a meal and set the table for two. You will place out the meal and eat it talking all the while just as if they were present. When you have finished your meal then clean up your setting but leave theirs.

Get ready for bed in silence. When you are prepared, kneel before the candle and ask the person you wish to see to return for one night to be with you. Form the image of them in your mind as clearly as you can. You will need to then go to the front door and open it saying that you have left them the way clear. Then return to your bed and lie down.

Lie down and get comfortable. Keep the image of them in your mind and in your mind’s eye continue calling to them. If you can continue this until you fall asleep then you will awake with precious memories.