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I am so sorry for your loss, and can't possibly understand what you are going through. (My parents just "dropped dead" in their mi
PaganSquare
PaganSquare is a community blog space where Pagans can discuss topics relevant to the life and spiritual practice of all Pagans.
Part 1: The Question
It is October,
the veil is thin
the year is waning
the leaves are turning
I am trying to say goodbye
to my grandmother
she is dying.
I do not know what to say.
My friend’s mother died this past spring.
The stroke happened suddenly and her passing came a few weeks later. Despite a lot of preparation for a worst-case scenario, the death hit the family hard. My friend had a difficult relationship with her mother (something many of us can relate to, I’m sure) and her ambivalent thoughts and emotions have been complicating an already difficult grieving process.
My friend announced her mother’s illness to our group, but she kept the news of her mother’s passing to herself. She had been out of town a lot to be with family, and it was only recently that I saw my friend since her family tragedy.
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I was interested in your comment "I as a priestess, did not show up at funerals..." Did you as a friend show up?
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From 2002 to 2012, it was mixed. A coven member's father died and we did not go to the funeral. At that time it was because we we
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My impression is that greater Pagandom has a substantial number of people who don't do well with these types of things, and that o
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I meant "bring in a social worker who understands the nuances of bereavement and has specialty skills in this topic."
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I'm sorry but this story struck me as almost a description of modern paganism. Events, celebrations, connections... but no true c
To many, winter is a time when the grief of loss strikes hardest. The symbolic death of spring and summer combined with the cold have us turning inward, some seeking a spiritual hibernation.
For me, this grief has been compounded by my mother's December birthday. This year she would be turning sixty. One of my friends grieves both her parents today, while another sits in a hospital waiting for her mother's unconscious body to relinquish its hold after a stroke.
...In her novel Possession, A.S. Byatt writes about the Celtic roots of Breton folklore, in a series of macabre tales that are only told in the few darkening weeks between All Hallow's Eve and Advent. These collected tales, Tales Told in November, are mysterious and disquieting tales, full of violence, monsters, and shadowy, threatening sexuality. The Dark Goddess is invoked as Melusine, the double-tailed mermaid. October is a time of harvest and revelry as the last of the harvest is brought in. It is a time of great bounty and joy. It's not until after the Wheel has shifted and the Descent has begun, that things become truly frightening. Halloween is the beginning, not the end, of the dark seasons of the shadow, the chthonian, and the Dark Gods below the Earth and Sea.
This transition, this Hinge that comes at Samhain and we in the Northern hemisphere begin our Descent, is marked by so many cultural celebrations. These are occasions of great joy as well as reverence and solemnity. Samhain, Dia de Muertos, Samhuinn, Winter Nights, All Hallows—of these have more than a little joy mixed in with the darker aspects of contact beyond the Veil, and engagement with grief and mourning. For years, the Samhain season was my happiest time of the Year, full of rituals, fun and festivity. It was during this time that I often fell in love, or began new friendships or projects that proved to be important and transformational. Samhain brought so much abundance and pleasure that it was easy to forget the whole death part.
...While I was in labor with my stillborn baby, I remember telling my midwife that I spent the first thirty years of my life depressed and I would NOT allow this tragedy to drag me back there. She smiled through her tears and told me I might not have a choice in the matter.
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Most people would call what happened to me a “near-death” experience, I suppose. Afterall, I am alive to write about it, three and a half months later.
When I think of what it is like to nearly die, I think about the time that crazy person driving the semi nearly ran me off the interstate at eighty or so miles an hour.
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