So, not only has my HordeBrother Starhelm been chosen by a Pale Horse, but I got the word this morning that my Aunt Barbara has joined the ancestors as of yesterday morning. One unexpected loss, one expected. To borrow a phrase..."DO NOT WANT!!!!" Two losses in one day is too much.
Barbara is my mom's sister, the one next older than her. She had a massive stroke in February, and was not going to be able to recover, honestly. My one cousin was realistic about the end, but the other was not ready to let go until about a week ago. She finally realized that extreme measures (daily dialysis, large doses of meds, etc.) were not going to help, and that Barb was never going to be able to leave a nursing home. I can only imagine how hard it has been on both the girls.
I'm very glad now that I made it back home for Christmas this past year. Barb had moved back to Jonesville last year, Mom and Uncle Bob share Mom's house there, Uncle Lynn lives across town and Aunt Lois is only about an hour away. That's 5 of the 8 siblings. In order from eldest to youngest, they are: Lois, Frankie (deceased), Bob, Lynn, Irene (deceased), Barbara (now deceased), Beverly (MOM), and John. John's in Colorado, but his son Jeff & family live less than a block from Mom now. My brother Frank and his wife live 5 miles away in the next town. Other cousins are all over the country and world. My family has been in that area of Michigan for 4 generations, at least.
You might have noticed that family is very important to me. Not only the family with which I share DNA, but my families of the heart. My Horde Brothers in the SCA. My brothers and sisters of the pagan communities I belong to. My adopted family on the mountain. My friends who are dear to me and sometimes closer than my blood kin. Even those who have left this world and joined the ancestors are still my kin and kith, and they live on in my memory and the stories we tell each time the family gathers.
But, dammit, I'm tired of these constant reminders of my own increasing age and mortality. My mind knows that these passages will happen, but my heart is never quite ready. Whose heart ever is? I miss each and every one that has left us lately, and am worried lest I forget a name on the growing list. In a few weeks, it will be yet another yahrzeit for a friend gone before. All I can do is remember and be glad for having known all these wonderful people.
I'm very glad now that I made it back home for Christmas this past year. Barb had moved back to Jonesville last year, Mom and Uncle Bob share Mom's house there, Uncle Lynn lives across town and Aunt Lois is only about an hour away. That's 5 of the 8 siblings. In order from eldest to youngest, they are: Lois, Frankie (deceased), Bob, Lynn, Irene (deceased), Barbara (now deceased), Beverly (MOM), and John. John's in Colorado, but his son Jeff & family live less than a block from Mom now. My brother Frank and his wife live 5 miles away in the next town. Other cousins are all over the country and world. My family has been in that area of Michigan for 4 generations, at least.
You might have noticed that family is very important to me. Not only the family with which I share DNA, but my families of the heart. My Horde Brothers in the SCA. My brothers and sisters of the pagan communities I belong to. My adopted family on the mountain. My friends who are dear to me and sometimes closer than my blood kin. Even those who have left this world and joined the ancestors are still my kin and kith, and they live on in my memory and the stories we tell each time the family gathers.
But, dammit, I'm tired of these constant reminders of my own increasing age and mortality. My mind knows that these passages will happen, but my heart is never quite ready. Whose heart ever is? I miss each and every one that has left us lately, and am worried lest I forget a name on the growing list. In a few weeks, it will be yet another yahrzeit for a friend gone before. All I can do is remember and be glad for having known all these wonderful people.
I finally found the quote I wanted to share. It's John Donne's "Meditation XVII"...
"All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated...As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come: so this bell calls us all: but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness....No man is an island, entire of itself...any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."
No comments:
Post a Comment