Google+ What I Made Today: December 2019

Saturday, December 7, 2019

I Will Miss Her

Peacekeeper, Margaret Jean Maville Derwitsch, my mother-in-law and friend, passed into the Big Mystery a week ago, on the cusp of midnight between November and December. I will miss her.

So many years ago she welcomed me into her family with an open, yet reluctant heart. A reluctance that I judge not one whit. A heart that warmed and never stopped opening to me as the years progressed. We became friends. Good friends. We shared confidences. I will miss her.

In the early days of our relationship she shared her garden with me, giving me a small patch. A patch that grew each year. Some things never change. My mulching methods befuddled her, I'm sure. She never directly said so, but I got that sense. She inspired me to preserve my harvests, and later she taught me to make a proper jelly after years of hit-or-miss. She taught me not to fear that hard boil. And not just for jelly. ::nods:: For a time we lived downstairs from her and her spouse, my beloved fishing buddy, Franz, where we shared the washing machine in the basement. I'd hang out her laundry, and she'd hang out mine. We went grocery shopping together. I will miss her.

We shared many an apricot brandy cocktail back in the day. Most every Friday evening (and then some) Franz would set 'em up and we'd knock 'em back. And Sunday dinners were a thing we shared, with other family members, sharing cooking, clean-up, and conversation. My mom would remark for years about Jean's giant Thanksgiving leftover pot pie. And I'll always recall - with humble pride - when she said of a wild blueberry pie I made for her, "that's what pie is supposed to taste like." I will miss her.

In later years she'd join Rick 'n' me with her youngest, Frankie, for Christmas dinner. And when my mom passed, we added Thanksgiving to the mix. She enjoyed these "civilized" holiday meals together. I laughed the first time she used that phrasing, and continue to chuckle at its recall. I will miss her.

She was rather serious, yet she inspired laughter in me, not always on purpose. Serious 'n' not, we shared a good bit of laughter between us. There's a number of Jeanisms, as I call them, that I've collected and assimilated for my own expressive use. A favored, and often used Jeanism is, "he thinks everything's funny," which at the time originally spoken, was expressed with a rather sharp annoyance... directed at her son... my spouse, Rick. It cracked me up then, and it cracks me up still. I will miss her.

Near the end, we spoke of death and dying. She said that if she saw the light she would go to it. I told that that is as it should be. We agreed that no one - no one - should have to suffer. In life. Or in death. I will miss her.

For me, from a personal perspective, her passing marks a major life change. All my parental relationships have moved on, leaving me to become the elder I'm meant to be. This feels like a mighty shift, a mighty responsibility, a mighty loss. And, indeed, it is. I will hold her memory deep in my heart like the precious gem that it is. And I will miss her.

Indeed, I miss her now.

Peace. 🕊

Sunday, December 1, 2019

December Descends

As my hemisphere sinks deeper into the darkness of the season's cauldron, the time comes ripe and ready to add the elements of desired manifestation. ::nods:: As we approach the winter solstice, it's vital that our intentions be focused on our most precious desires, not our distress 'n' distractions. As we approach the winter solstice we make ready to stir in all that is good and right, all that is whole and holy, all that nourishes and sustains... all life. The life of Gaia. 

Every choice we make in this season - and every season - has a holistic ripple effect on our own lives, on the lives of those around us, on the lives of all life. Now is the season to give attention to the ripples we are making, and to the ripples we desire to make. Now is the season to collect the shimmering gems that hide in the darkness, to make ready to add and stir these elements to our cauldrons when winter arrives. And to keep stirring. 

This. This is a big part of the mystery and magick of the season. This is the mystery and magick that makes manifest in our collective future. This is the mystery and magick that we make manifest together as the ripples of our collective desires join in creation.

May your December embrace you in the mystery and magick of the season, may you return the embrace, and may you manifest a better world for yourSelf, for your community, for the world, for Mama Earth.