Goodbye Hugh and Erica

Things were weird in June. Some pretty big things happened, not happy things though. First off, Hannah had a horrible gallbladder attack. I've never seen her eyes roll back in her head like that before - it was actually pretty scary. So the family ushered her out the door and to the ER we went. This, in and of itself, was pretty upsetting for the Hannah, but shortly after that her grandfather, Hugh, went downhill. He passed on Monday June 25th. Her grandmother bought plane tickets for Hannah and I to come down for the funeral on that Friday. It all happened so fast! 

The funeral was kind of amazing, filled with 1930's charm and home-cooking. Everyone was beautifully polite and gentle and supportive. At the grave site Hannah felt her grandfather's presence. A bugler played taps. A very handsome and somber member of the US Military knelt before Hannah's grandmother and presented her with the flag as a sign of respect to the years grandpa had served. It was all so beautiful and perfect. And sad. Click here to see the obituary.

While we were still in Kansas, my best friend from college called me to let me know something awful. Something that is still hitting me in a hard, weird way. Friend Erica passed away. I graduated from Mesa State College with Erica. I helped her flunk statistics because I always managed to seduce her to come with me to Johnny Carino's for Happy Hour Bellinis instead of attending class. I was in a one-act play with her where we got into a crazy food fight and had ketchup in our ears for days after the show. We used to take naps together between studies and play rehearsals and she used my boobs as pillows.

I went to Germany twice with her. At Camp Lachenwald, her camp counselor name was Eeek. Three 'e's. My name was Quetzal. I remember one time she called me to her tent in the middle of the night for spider relocation (so many spiders!) and I was Quetzal the Hero. And there was another time when we were both so homesick we slept together on a cot at camp. A small cot. But we made it work and neither of us fell off. One of my favorite memories of Germany: the first night we arrived there I drank the hotel bar dry of Gin and then Erica and I skinny dipped in the Main river with a Marine named Wu. The next day he sang to us, "I wish they all could be Colorado girls."

She was a sweet, sassy, crazy woman who liked things like Modest Mouse, Dashboard Confessional, luscious lipsticks, and shoes. Never did I know anyone who had quite so many shoes. But the things I think about with Erica are the little conversations we had. We said 'I know friends drift and I don't want us to drift apart' and we swore up and down we wouldn't. But we did. We drifted for a while until my college bff said I should add Erica to my super secret Facebook that only has (right at this moment) 21 friends. So I sent the invite and Erica accepted immediately. That was on June 12th. Eighteen days later my friend calls to tell me she's gone.

Nothing I could write here will really do her justice. She was surprising and wonderful and I have so many amazing memories because of her. I found her obituary online. It's too simple in my opinion. Erica's obituary should be like a Music Video from the early 90's. Fashionable girl in amazing shoes follows David Bowie into a painting and proceeds to dance through a variety of artistic renaissances until she ends up drunk on Bellinis and napping on my boobs again. 

Nancy, Faces of Death, and Dry Ice Birthday

Cousin Kat came up for Labor Day weekend to say goodbye to her Grandma Nancy. Even though she couldn't be there for the funeral and won't be there for interment, being able to come up and say goodbye in her own way was really necessary for closure. So she came up and Hannah and I pretty much adopted her for while she was in town. It was really nice getting to spend some time with her and I am sad that she's gone already. I'll get to spend some more time with her in October at the end of the honeymoon though and that will be good.

Our goodbye to Nancy was a crazy day. First of all, Washington and Idaho and surrounding areas are absolutely filled with wildfire smoke right now. It's like a permanent haze of filth and yuck and it's making everyone sick. We woke to this smoke on Labor Day and knew already the day was going to be weird. That morning we went to see friends and to go through some of the things they are getting rid of. I found an athame among other things. Also she lent me her stature representation of the god Herne (Cernunnos) so that we could work with him before the wedding. I'm going to spend some time with him over the weekend.

For me he's 'horned god' instead of a name because I always feel like I'm saying or using the names wrong. I want to really meditate on his aspects and find out which aspect I would like to write into the handfasting ceremony script. All aspects are welcome of course, but I would like my words to make sense when I write them and for that I need a little time to get to know him better.

After visiting our friends we headed to my mom's house and debated whether to go all the way over the hill to visit Nancy's 'soon to be' grave or not considering the awful weather. In the end it was just too important not to go. So we headed over east and stopped in Kellogg to look around. Kat was feeling very nostalgic so we drove around some of her old haunts and relived some memories. We also went to where Nancy's spirit burned down a building - at least we're pretty sure it was Nancy's spirit. An old hotel and a bed and breakfast burst into flame on the night of her memorial rosary. The cause of fire is still yet to be determined. Which in my mind means Nancy did it. She was a feisty lady in life, of course she would be just as feisty in spirit form. 

While we drove up in that area we happened up on a video rental store going out of business and we decided on a whim to go and check it out. Turns out it was more than just a rental store. The man running the store was a witch, if not Pagan, and had a ton of really neat witchy stuff as well as super rare and bizarre collectibles. He was also a gore and horror movie aficionado and had movies that most of us will never see a hard copy of in real life.

He had 'Faces of Death' and 'Nekromatik' and many others. I picked up Chaos and Martyrs since I, too, enjoy horror and gore. I also found a small cast iron cauldron with pentacles on either side. And Hannah found some CDs and an old copy of Gothic Beauty magazine which we will most likely be framing some articles from. Kat even found some neat things. It was a really surreal experience going into that shop. He said he works a different job and so he only opens up this store on Mondays. How fortuitous of us to be there on a Monday. 

After this we went to the Day Cemetery in Osburn. Nancy remains are going to be laid to rest with Uncle Frank's remains. So we visited Uncle Frank's grave to visit him and also to say goodbye to Nancy because we were pretty darn sure her spirit was already there even if her ashes weren't. We gathered around the headstone. We lit some sage and a grandma candle for Kat (she can take it home and light it when she needs some grandma Nancy love) and did a small blot, passing around a growler full of Pepsi, to praise Nan and share our memories of her. It was really nice and at the end of it I felt goosebumps. I know that Kat really needed to have that moment and I'm really glad we made it down there for her.

Since that night, the house had felt a little weird. I noticed something funny in the Bowie room the other night and then again after we came back from the Silver Valley (Kellogg area). I know that Narcisa freaked out horribly after we got back from the Silver Valley and we think it might have been something (a smell? a spirit? a emotion?) that we brought back with us from the old DVD rental place or maybe from the cemetery. Anyway, I think we should do a little smudging this weekend and see if we can't reinvigorate the house for a while and keep things positive.

Last thing: my birthday is coming up. My mother had planned to do a murder party for me (yes, it really is as cool as it sounds!) but she just had surgery and so we're going to put that off for another time. Maybe for Hannah's birthday next spring. Instead, I'm going to put together a lab for 'easy to do at home' science experiments and play the mad scientist for the evening. One of the things I'm definitely going to do is use my old, old fire extinguisher (as long as it's a CO2 based one) and make some mutha-fuckin' dry ice! Please observe this video where the process is made simple and fun.

Nanny Goat's Legacy

I spent last Saturday morning planning our the framework of the wedding ceremony with our officiant and her husband. It was a wonderful morning and I felt about a million times better about the wedding once we were done. I now have to write the script and make a logistics list and then on to the other million and one things!

Such a great morning and great lunch. I feel so blessed to have these people in my life and I was especially happy to get to spend so much time with them that day.

Saturday afternoon, however, was a little different. I found out via a quick voice message from my mom that my Aunt Nancy was dead. Just like that. I couldn't call mom because she was already on her way down to the silver valley and her cell was out of working range and my dad didn't have much more info than what was in the voicemail. Of my aunts, I have three that I speak with on a semi regular basis and feel are on my side. My two Aunt Bunnies (Lola on my mom's side, Barbara on my dad's side) and then Nan. Mom called her Nanny Goat and, sometimes, Fancy Nancy.

She was quirky and tall and dressed like Dorothy from Golden girls. She didn't like reptiles but she loved my iguana. Her favorite treat was a bottle of ice cold Pepsi and a slice of Tillamook sharp cheddar. She was probably my greatest fan and even after my vocal nodes destroyed my chance of professional singing, she still found ways to force me to perform here and there, talking me up as if I were actually someone to talk about. And, dang, did she love her wild animal prints. Her bedroom motif was Africa. She was particular and there were times she was a downright turd. And for as wild and rebellious as she was, she was also a total prude.

She had eight children. One died shortly after birth. Born and died decades before my parents had even met. I visited his grave in Colorado. Another child died in a car accident. A grown man with two children of his own - that was the first horrific tragedy our family had known. We'd been lucky thus far. A third child of Nancy's died while hitchhiking between towns in the silver valley. The third child was a grown man who was so sick by the time he died that he looked older than his own mother. Of all her loses, though, the one that nearly killed her was losing her husband. She said losing a child is the worst thing you can imagine. But losing a mate is like losing your soul.

Nancy leaves behind five children and plethora of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Also her dog, Taffy, who came to her shortly after Nan lost her husband. This little doe-faced dog saved her life I think. For many, many years it's been Nanny and Taffy, the inseparable duo. They are separated now, though, and my mom told me that she held Taffy on Sunday and cuddled her and the dog cried. It was like she finally understood that mommy wasn't coming back.

Mom told me how Nancy went. She woke up Saturday to get ready to go to dialysis. Her neighbor had checked in on her. When the bus arrived to take her to the hospital, they waited and waited and no one came out. Finally they went in and she was asleep in her chair. Asleep forever. I thank the gods for her peaceful passing. This woman had spinal meningitis twice. She suffered from a myriad of medical problems and was a chain smoker for most of her life. She'd been on dialysis for years and years. She was no stranger to pain and had been in such pain once that she'd prayed for her god to take her. So for her to have passed as if she were sleeping is something I am eternally thankful for. Until we meet in another life: farewell, Nanny Goat.

Flower Power: A Divine Pair

This past full moon (Wednesday, May, 10th) I led a small ritual with a few friends. We were trying out a new space and just sort of getting a feel for the land spirits as well as trying to tame a bit of the magical chaos we had all been feeling lately. We celebrated the full flower moon with candles, sage, flowers, and a water centered magical activity. I had planned to write out a meditation to lead but as I began writing it felt off somehow. So, instead, I selected a Plant Ally Meditation from Youtube that I believed would encompass what I wanted to achieve with the meditative portion of the celebration. It probably would have. But it was recorded too softly for us to be able to utilize it during the ritual. I was faced with either improvising a meditation or scrapping it. 

Thank the Goddess I chose to wing it. I did a Plant Ally Guided Meditation that took us into a dark and thriving forest to a small plant hidden within a rotting log. We each drew our respective plant-life from the decay and formed a bond with the spirit inhabiting the flower. After the meditation I asked everyone what their flower was and what the spirit looked like. It was really neat to hear everyone's experience. Magically I was able to relax enough, even while speaking, to find my own flower. At first I wasn't sure what it was but it was a red full bloom, thin, tissue-like petals. I realized it was a poppy. This surprised me as my favorite flowers are Bleeding Hearts, Tulips, and Fuchsia. So I tucked this away, planning to look into the symbolism and the 'why' later. Hannah's flower was a blue daisy. Again a bit of a surprise since she's an Orchid and Rose girl all the way. 

Hannah learned later that the Daisy is Freyja's flower. It was sweet, like the goddess was waving to Hannah saying, "I'm still here with you!" 

The fact that flower was blue in Hannah's meditation is also interesting. It's one of the most calming colors in chromotherapy. It is also healing and it is the leading favorite color of the human race. It is above us and below us and universal. When I think Daisy I automatically think white so the blue was very deliberate. To be honest I didn't think blue daisies actually existed outside Hannah's meditation. I was wrong. They are quite real and quite lovely.

Inspired by Hannah's flower Ally and symbolism, I did a little research into the meaning behind the Poppy flower. The Poppy, of course, produces the poppy seed which leads to opium and all sorts of sleep inducing highly addictive substances. But the archetypal correspondence for the flower is actually Morpheus, the Greek god of Dreams. Which is rather appropriate as my last name literally translates into: the dreamer. 

I'm a huge fan of Neil Gaiman's Sandman series and of dream analysis/divination and mythology in general. One of my stories deals with a Baku which is benevolent creature from Japanese folklore that survives by eating dreams, specifically nightmares. 

When I was younger I had vivid reoccurring dreams about an old robed woman who came down every night to make sure my family was asleep and if were caught awake, she would kill us presumably. It was a terrible dream, one which I had every night for months and months. Looking back on it now I wonder if it was my fear of mortality already creeping in at the tender young age of 6. Many of my dreams live on in story form or help me to create characters. So, long story short, the Poppy seems a very apropos Ally. 

Here's where it gets really interesting though:

For about two weeks I've been working as a freelance transcriber through Rev.com. It's not a huge amount of pay but I figure I can bring in an extra $25 or so a week and get a few side bills paid down (or, more than likely, put it all toward wedding expenses). Well, the other night I had a job that gave me some pause. As a transcriber we are supposed to type what we hear and not correct things that are misspoken by the speakers. Well I had a speaker say an author's name but she said it way off. I discovered the correct name and was debating on whether or not to put the correct spelling in or try to phonetically tackle the speakers gross mispronunciation. So I went to the forums on the site to see if anyone else had asked a similar question.

I didn't find my question but I fell down an immediate rabbit hole. There were so many interesting topics and threads. After perusing for a few minutes I stumbled upon a thread of a transcriber asking for help listening to a 3 second sound bit to see if anyone could pick out a certain word. The content dealt the energy and balance and the goddess. So of course I was curious! I clicked on the link to the audio and found that it was actually a video recording. I saw a woman speaking to a camera and thought nothing much of it until I noticed what was behind her: poppies and blue daisies.

Until that moment I would never have thought that red poppies and blue daisies could be a thing. Hell, I didn't even know blue daisies were a thing until researching them after Hannah's meditation. Shocked and inspired by this, I went on a google search to see if I couldn't find a picture of the painting behind the woman (you know, on the off chance that it was a classic or well known painting). I didn't find the painting but what I did find was further evidence of the marriage between red poppies and blue daisies.

Apparently these two flowers pair up nicely on many fabrics and prints. Perhaps a more popular pairing is poppy with cornflower or poppy with white daisy, but there was enough red poppy and blue daisy to convince me that not only is this combination a thing, it must somehow stem from some kind of archetypal knowledge. How random for Hannah to see a blue daisy and how utterly strange for me to pick a poppy. And yet, maybe it wasn't random or strange at all. Maybe it was just what we needed. I'm not entirely certain yet what the synchronicities mean for me or Hannah, but I know there is meaning and I find deep comfort in that.

She was an Old Soul

Her laugh, her voice, her words all spoke of something ephemeral and pure. She was all or nothing, a tome of fictional truths, a writer, a wife, a mother, a rock star, a wild woman, and a sensitive soul. An old soul. She felt like a child who had lived many, many lives and who had decided, "fuck this shit." She was small and lean with an enormous aura that stretched from some obscure Canadian Islands to the Floridian Peninsula. And she wrote grit. She tapped into her old soul, shucked away all layers of nicety, and wrung blood from the page. Big things. Uncomfortable things. Things that still make me a little uncomfortable. She wrote them all. She didn't have time to fuck around. She had a message. She had a moment. And she used her time to the very end, publishing "Pelee Island Stories" within the last nine months.

She was an old soul. She was so beautiful. She had the beauty and grace and fierceness... the sad, happy eyes half hooded with pleasure and mystery... that only comes from the lessons and loves of life after life after life. So many lives. And why did this one have to be so short? 

Tanya. I know you'll be back here someday in a different life, same soul, same beauty and honesty. New body. New name. You'll share your talents all over again. You'll raise some hell. Maybe raising some more kids. Maybe your next life will be longer. But I doubt there will ever be another life with this many people missing you, grieving you, and celebrating your memory. You left us on May 25th (a few days ago, seconds really, in the grand scheme of things). You were diagnosed with stage IV esophageal cancer on June 5th last year. Thank you for each and every moment you gave us after the diagnosis. Thank you for being there at my last residency and for graduating with me. Thank you for being an old soul, a dear friend, and an amazing and inspiring talent in my life. Peace, friend.