It's the time that I set aside to remember my Beloved Dead. As we are all mortal, and one, by one, will pass on to the Summerlands, the next life, or total oblivion - however you contemplate the existence (or not) after the end of our lives here - we need to be mindful of our place in the cosmos. I, like many others, do that by building an altar to my Beloved Dead. My parents, family, friends, four-legged companions.
I remember you all, and I owe a debt of gratitude to each of you.
To my parents, Walter Francis and Dorothy Louise, who brought me into this world, taught me well, and told me I could do anything;
To my friends in San Francisco, to Greg, and Tim, and Hugh, who died long before they should have - to you all I owe you for teaching me how to have fun;
To Raven Moonshadow, my teacher in the Magickal Arts, for seeing the Light and Dark in everything;
To the wonderful cats and dogs in my life - to Baron, Katherine Colleen (KC), Phyllis, and Jeannie - you kept me warm and sane for many years, and memories of you get me through the hard times now where I don't have any companion animals in my house.
Remembering death and separation is not maudlin or sad. There's a saying in my tradition: "What is remembered, lives." Everytime I bring to mind a picture, story, feeling, smell, taste, or touch. I remember those who put those images in my mind. They are there, alive again, and for a moment, or more, they are with me once again.
To all of you, my ancestors and friends - to all of you who have gone before, I remember you, I love you, and one day, I will join you "in the Land of Youth, the Shining Land, the Isle of Apples!"
We are an amalgam - a composite - of all of the people we have met over the years. We may adopt their accents, their laughs, their jokes and stories. The above refrain for the Summerlands, across the Styx, was taught to me by a lovely woman I met in San Francisco when we were both members of the Reclaiming Collective - Judy Calipso Iris Foster.
I love and miss you, Judy - altar builder extraordinaire, and awesome baker and chef.
The woman who taught me that refrain is Judy Foster.
