I am providing the prompt for our Spiritual Thursday writing group this month:
"In memory of..."
As the ephemera for Dia de los Muertos multiplies in stores and decor it
occurs to me
I have no family plot
My grandparents interred
in their urns to the north
Relatives buried or burned
from coast to coast
My own mother
five-hundred-eighty-three miles
to the west
(Unlike my husband's side--he
took me to his family's cemetery
as a means of introduction)
And just like that, an ofrenda makes sense.
 |
| Photo from Wikimedia Commons |
As a child, Halloween was all about the costume and the candy, followed by obligatory attendance of Mass for All Saints Day. When my mother passed just months after my thirtieth birthday, my focus began to shift to the true meaning of these holy days and the ancient need for connecting with our ancestors that precedes Church. I find myself yearning for signs, dreams, anything that forms even the thinnest of links with loved ones who have left the mortal plane.
And then a memory popped up in my Facebook feed.
Maybe those links are there in the crochet chains and stitches, in the afghan on my bed, the pictures on the wall, my mother's hands becoming my own.
An ofrenda surrounds me in art, recipes, handiwork. I just need to pause, notice, and give thanks...and light a candle or two.
Chris, thank you for hosting Spiritual Thursday this month! Your 'ofrenda' (a new word for me) is so beautiful, and such a loving way to connect with and remember those we have lost. This line, "I find myself yearning for signs, dreams, anything that forms even the thinnest of links with loved ones who have left the mortal plane" - I can truly relate. I am always looking for and noticing the different skies and breezes, birds that pop into my path...and making connections/links. It is healing for me; I hope for you, as well. Thank you for your words here - and I hope good health finds you very soon!
ReplyDeleteYour topic was prescient for me - today, is the burial for both my parents. Here is the link to my reflections:
https://maureenyoungingram.com/on-buoyancy/
Maureen, I was honored that you gave voice to the topic that was so present for you. Thank you for your contribution this month!
DeleteYour poem is wonderful. Maureen, I can't figure out how to leave a comment on your blog. The photo is beautiful. What a gift you've given your family with this poem. Surely you shared it with your siblings! I also read your slice of life about the burial. What a beautiful day you shared with so many who loved your parents.
DeleteChris, I honor your memories. Your post is a tender one that touches my heart. While death was a fearful thought for me as a child, I found peace in the prompt you offered and finally finished my post that can be found at https://beyondliteracylink.blogspot.com/2022/10/lifting-veil-spiritual-journey-thursday.html. Thank you once again for the peaceful post you shared with us.
ReplyDeleteChris, Thank you for hosting this month's Spiritual Journey. Little things have a way of jogging our memories, making us recall a loved one who is no longer with us. Although these memories sometimes cause us to shed a tear, they also remind us of the love and joy that person brought into our lives. Your prompt made me think of my family and how who I am is because of them. Here is the link to my post: https://arjeha.wordpress.com/2022/10/06/remembered-not-forgotten/
ReplyDeleteBob, your post and poem were a welcome addition to this circle. Thank you!
DeleteSuch a gorgeous analogy, Chris, recognizing the ofrendas surrounding you, woven throughout your life. The symbolism of that beautiful blanket made from yarn of your mother's - that you can still wrap yourself in her love - it's magnificent, an offering to us all. As was this prompt. Death returns and rises before us more so every fall (shiver) as we continue marking our years and days and whether or not we have our own burial plots... yet there's something so glorious in it, foreshadowing the traditional hallowed observances at the end of the month. Thank you for hosting today, so poignantly and beautifully.
ReplyDeleteHere's my own offering: https://litbitsandpieces.com/2022/10/06/spiritual-journey-revenants/
Fran, as the grief softens with time, the mementos do bring a spark of happiness and gratitude for the love with which they were made. I do look forward to lighting some candles and looking for signs on those holy days.
DeleteChris, thank you for this beautiful contemplation. I have been sitting with it for a few days now. I've started to write twice, but I abandoned my writing and settled for sitting with the sensations and finding wonder in... How I can still hear my brother's voice in my head, but I struggle to remember his face outside of photographs; how the scent of Mennen's After Shave evokes the memory of my father, or the way Royal Secret perfume makes me feel like my mother is near. My realization that never found adequate words is that while memory rests quietly in the background, what lives on is what they created. I can actually listen to my brother's voice in a recording he made while in Viet Nam. I can feel my mother's living love in the Rose of Sharon she rooted for me. I can be lifted by my father's sweet words in a letter he wrote to me, now press between pages in my Bible. Thank you for opening the door to this contemplation.
ReplyDeleteSusan, we are so fortunate to have this community of friends who have beautiful memories of loved ones and are able to communicate them to all of us. Your thoughts here are another way of settling into our contemplation time.
DeleteSusan, I hope your memories leaned more toward joy than grief, though the latter is assuredly unavoidable. Thank you for sharing your sensory experiences; I struggle with the memories of sounds, and your reminder that voices exist in recordings is prompting me to pull out some old family tapings. Thank you.
DeleteSusan, a beautiful reflection about the sensory connections we feel to loved ones. I love that you move on to point out the ways that you can listen, feel, and be lifted by their love.
DeleteThank you, Alice! I am fortunate to have quite a few items of my mother's handiwork throughout my home. It does bring me solace.
ReplyDeleteI'm late to the gathering, but wanted to join in even if I'm late. This theme is so appropriate for this month. Like you, I'm ever on the lookout for whatever links I can find to dear departed ones. Sometimes it's a dream, sometimes a song, sometimes a line of poetry that connects us. Those lines however thin are always there for us to notice and draw comfort from. Thanks for hosting this month and for this timely theme.
ReplyDelete