Ok, so, a little late! But I finally did my Samhain Ritual. I conjured a little time to myself and dressed my altar (above). I also dressed myself! I usually go “au naturale” for my solitary rituals. (Mind you, “au naturale” for me, usually means pajamas.) But I decided, in honor of the occasion, I should appear Priestessly.
So, cloaked, made up and sparkled, I set about creating the sacred space which would feel inviting and would properly honor my ancestors and loved ones who’ve passed.
There’s a picture of my mom below. (By the way, the child in the back-ground with the pixie haircut is me!) She was my adoptive mom, but my mom none the less. Never was there a day when I had less than absolute confidence in her love for me. Not even a moment. I put her photo in the west of the circle and I invited her along with all of my other ancestors, blood and otherwise, to join me.
After my consecrations and invocations and offerings (chocolate and red wine!) I sat quietly for a time with eyes closed, focusing on each passed loved one in turn. When I focused on my beautiful mom, (her name is Connie… Constance… my middle name) I began to feel a tingling sensation across my back. In my mind’s eye, I could see her, not as she was in the photo. That was a long time ago. I saw her as she was at her 70th birthday celebration (her last). She was breathtaking! In a classic pale blue suit with a skirt shorter than I ever felt comfortable wearing in my life and high heels, my 70 year old mom was hot and knew it. Everyone always said she had Tina Turner Legs!
She hugged me today. And I’m grateful. Her influence in my life cannot be overstated. She was the strongest, wisest most gutsy, woman I’ve ever known. She gave me my spark, I have no doubt, even if she didn’t give me her genes. So, in honor of this amazing woman/goddess/mother/crone, I am posting here the gift I gave her on her 70th birthday. She was adamant at the time that no one bring gifts to her party. I sent out invitations which quoted Emerson. “The greatest gift is of thyself.” She intended it to mean the presence of her loved ones was gift enough. Their time and caring was all she desired. And that was true. But I wanted to give my mom something of myself. I decided that was my writing. So here is what I wrote, in calligraphy, and had framed for her on her last birthday, this time around.
The souls of mothers and daughters are matched not by chance or fate and not here, on earth, but by the Gods, in the realms of the Mighty, at the Source of all that there is.
These precious parings are by no means random, but chosen carefully, each for the other, for what they can learn from one another and for how much love they can give.
I came to this conclusion one night some years ago, while watching my own baby girl sleeping. I was thinking that this lovely infant had already taught me more than I could ever teach her, given me more than I could ever return. It was in that moment, within the same thought really, that I began to realize what my mother had done for me, what she has been to me.
And that night and every night since, it has been my fervent hope, my most desperate prayer that I can give my daughter as great a capacity for love and joy and peace as my mother has given me.
There was never a moment in my life, through crushing difficulties or soaring happiness that I doubted my mother’s love for me, or her ability & willingness to diminish my sorrow or multiply my joy by sharing those feelings with me. It is only now, with a child of my own, that I begin to realize the sacrifices and strength of character necessary to be that kind of mother ~ to be that kind of WOMAN.
So much of who I am today is from you, Mom! I will always be deeply grateful that the wisdom of the universe chose to give me to you, and even more so, that you were given to me.