December 2, 2004

"Born to Fly"

I lay awake, remembering scenes from Joliet. In particular, my mother in the casket, looking as natural as a dead person can. They made her red and bony hands look even toned and not so bony. They made all of her look not so bony. She never had sizeable breasts in life, but they gave 'em to her in death. The pink sweater that was chosen became her well.

The preacher asked me what my mother was like, and I had hopes he would use the information in his address to the loved ones. He didn't. But I told him about how my mother was always so fiercely inquisitive about everything, always reading books to learn new things, constantly seeking the mysteries on both the physical and metaphysical planes. Indeed, in her house, I found many tall towers of books stacked up. Rather a large amount of those were about planes themselves, ie. aviation. She was fascinated with all aspects and knew the many types of planes.

As a natural thing, when I first boarded the plane from Yuma to Phoenix, I took note of the flight attendant's announcements. "This is a Dash 8 Haviland . . ." I took note of the seating arrangement on the small plane. It seats thirty seven people. I have no idea how many the big plane seats. The first three rows are devoted to the wide first class padded leather seats. Then it goes back past for maybe twenty four rows or so, with six seats across.

It's a big bird:

Mother would have been interested in info like that.

That was one of her rubber stamps. When we went through her material possessions, we found several stamps with flying themes. She who had little opportunity to fly in this life now flies to her next destination. Light on the luggage, she'll find new in the next life. Peace be to her journeys.

Flight of the soul


Oddly, I feel more like the mythic vampire, who watches all the mortals he has loved die, while he remains. This sorrow will always be a part of life. This bitter sadness, always. But as time goes by, I'll find more of the sweet. I know from past loss, this is so.

For right now, I'll just trust that memory.

The Moroccan singer says, "I know, I know, I know" as if in response to my deep sorrow. Death is a part of life. I'll remember the deep breathing.

What is 'my will' today?

To find within myself the calm spaces, to enter them and find strength within. Return to the center . . .

The vision of my perfected Self is one who is at the center point of her emotions, knows the deep wells of strength and draws deeply.

This is my goal for the day.

This is not to say today it will be a joyful self, just that I will sense those deep wells, breathe deeply and draw deeply. Return to the Center, I feel the wells, yes they are there. Breathe deeply, I will get through this.

I notice the Kemeticists are having their Mysteries of Wesir Feast (WESIR being Osiris, the God of the Dead) now . . .

"In the silence of this evening, may you mourn your losses and yet find quiet peace in their wake," their Priestess declares.

Yes, good advice, that. She's giving a space to grief. This is a part of life. I don't like it. I don't like that things end, connections end, people end. I hate it bitterly. But it is a part of life and it is alright to sorrow. If I give it its space now, I will know the happier joy later.

December 3, 2004

"Unique Beauties"

I awaken with busy thoughts on a wide variety of topics. Part of them were of my Mother. I will always have a Mother-shaped hole in my heart. I will always have a Laura shaped hole. This is just the way it is. I wouldn't want to not have this reaction to the death of someone I love. To love deeply is part of life's richest treasures. I have a vast heart and there is plenty of room for those 'holes'. There's lots more in there besides 'holes' and all of it makes the complete picture.

The inner door of my mother's house.

I checked the temperature in Joliet. Currently, it is 25F(-4C). In contrast, Yuma is currently 48F(9C). Yes, we think we're cold here. Sensitivity to temperature is certainly dependent on one's environment.

Dan's yard, Tuesday morning. The temp is 32F (0C)

Dan's yard, Wednesday morning. The temp is 20F (-6C)

Yes, it snowed the night of the funeral. Snow came down in huge white chunks. As Dan noted, it looked like the warp speed effect on Star Trek as we moved through the snow. But, yes, it was pretty:

The view out Dan's dining room window...

Each environment has its own unique beauties. With all that said, it is a 'joint' agreement, I like it better here. Still, I am glad the northern midwest revealed its magic while I was there.

December 4, 2004 B

"Glamour From Days Gone By"

Dan and Cathy's wedding in 1978

My mother was so pretty in this picture:

This is how I shall remember her.

December 5, 2004

"Alert To The End"

When I was putting away the luggage, I found this most recent picture of Mom that Dan gave to me:

Her fascination with flight is illustrated as behind her is a photo of a plane in flight and two plastic models of planes. On one I can make out the brand TWA, and I believe the one in the photo is of that type. (Or does that more accurately refer to the airline and not the type of plane?)

Anyway, she has a bright and alert expression, and that is a joy. She had full mental capacity until the day of her passing and she didn't suffer long.

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