Honoring my Mother

This year I wanted to give my mom something special on the anniversary of her death. My friend Neve, who has a powerful gift for creating ritual flower arrangements, offered to do something for my mom. It felt right, especially as Mutti always loved flowers, was an avid gardener, and too great pleasure in the peace and beauty of her garden.

flowres for mutti 2016

I arranged things with Neve, who took the resulting bouquet to the Pacific shore (also appropriate, as my mom adored Big Sur). This evening I heard from my friend, who sent me an account of the small ritual he did, and some gorgeous pictures, of the bouquet offering, the spot where the rite was done, and a cavernous passage through which he passed to find exactly the right spot to honor my mom.

“This morning I arranged a bouquet, transcribed your letter and took a train to the ocean, and walked the beach looking for the right place. I walked the entire length of Ocean beach until I reached the cliffs north of the beach. I had a strange feeling of being pushed further, challenged in a way, to climb way out into the cliffs, through a tunnel, and out to a ledge that I might usually be too cautious or afraid to go to. The whole procession I sang a little hymn I composed…

On the cliff, I lit a candle and sang the hymn three times. As I sang I felt sort of frenzied but also terrified. The ocean began roaring and the waves were crashing intensely. I prayed to Hermes in his role as messenger and to Flora as the mother of flowers and asked them to bring the flowers to your Mutti on your behalf. I poured out offerings to them. At this point the waves reached a height of frenzy and I felt the presence of the Gods, and also a motherly presence, who I believe was hers. I threw the bouquet from the cliff and a wave reached up, tore it apart in mid air, and the flowers disappeared into the water. Then everything was calm. I felt a deep sense of peace and gratitude. The waves stopped for a moment and I left, singing the hymn again, slightly changed to offer thanks as I went through the tunnel.”

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With the offering, I sent a prayer:

Dear Mutti,

I miss you every day. My life has shifted again like sands under a tumultuous wave and every day I worry that I am losing the things you have taught me, that I am moving farther away from the daughter I was to you. I worry that the best parts of me followed you to the grave and ironically even as I feel separate, I know that each day brings me closer to reunion with you too. We did not have enough time. We could never have had enough time and yet, I am so very grateful for you, my miracle mother, and so very grateful for the corporeal time we were given, and so very grateful for the choices you made even if they scoured my soul raw in the end.

I wish you were here now in the flesh to see the person that I’ve become. I am a jumbled mess at times but the palace of my mind has opened its doors to places and things, ideas and insights in a way that never could have happened before your care. Because of you I can say “ich bin gut gebildet” and know it to be true. Because of you I did not wither away in agony more than a decade ago. You gave me the only life that truly counts, even if it was not one of your body.

Oh I am so tired, Mutti, so very tired and yet at last I feel I can begin picking up the broken pieces of me, knitting myself together with the remembrance of you, and moving forward. There is so much left to do. I must learn to love the Gods again—it was so hard to let it lie that you were gone. You are still my marker, my example for all that is good and right and proper in this world. I wish to be the kind of person that you would respect, always, and I often worry I am falling short.

Yet I feel your care like a warm comforter wrapping around me, ever and always and still you pour gifts into my hands. I know how deeply I am loved even now, especially now. You have become a most holy sancta to so many people in our community and while I know you are probably appalled by the whole thing, I think it only right and just. Your time in the world, as hard as it was for you did not go unnoticed. You brought sustenance of the spirit to so many and you continue to do that now. I’m proud to say that you are my mother. even if sometimes it seems obscene that the world spins merrily on without you in it. How dare it exist when you do not? I wish that I had gone into full mourning for you instead of pushing through. It has helped me to mark passage in such ways because every day I feel your absence. I do not know how I survived when you were gone. I’m not quite sure how I am still here.

I love you, Mutti, auf Zeit und Ewigkeit. I could write a book of longing and sorrow, joy in remembrance of things shared, and all things that I would have shared like a child holding out its first drawing had you still be enfleshed when they occurred. I know that you know these things already. Instead I will only say that I hope you have a measure of peace dearly bought and dearly earned with Loki and Sigyn. I hope you are whole and healthy and happy. I wish for you joy, oh my miracle mother. I wish for you contentment.

I love you so much, it flows through the veins of my heart and soul like blood: I love you I love you I love you. that is all I want to say. I am so grateful to all the Gods for bringing us together and I love you. My friend Neve offered to make this beautiful arrangement — a blessing gift, something beautiful and holy for you — and I hope they adorn your world and bring you delight. I know you loved flowers and they remind me so of you and of Sigyn. Know that I am well and safe and know that every day I still feel how deeply, eternally I am loved by you. Thank you, my mother. oh thank you.

On this day of your death, I send this forth.

love,

Galina

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(All photos by Neve)

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Posted on February 4, 2016, in Ancestor Work, Ancestors, devotional work, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Comments Off on Honoring my Mother.

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