Saturday, May 14, 2011

Oh brother, where art thou?

Yesterday, working about the homeplace on one of the most beautiful days of early summer (Pagan summer begins at Beltane or the eve of May), everything was reminding me of my beautiful brother who went to join the Ancestors last month. Even in the morning, before we'd gone to the hillplace, I was feeling the loss, that deep crying kind of feeling that came and left and came again.

When you feel something out of the blue -- and it's not you -- it's best to stop and let the feeling catch you. Unresolved grief or lonliness and the like can get into your bones and leach your energy. The feeling of loss was crisscrossed with a feeling of gratitude. If you're feeling greatful, there must be a Someone to be grateful to. I thanked my Spirit Kin, my Ancestors, and my God and Goddess. I also thanked my parents for having the good sense to raise me -- at least for awhile -- up on that lovely mountainside. The sights were a bit evolved, with the changes that mankind brings, but the smells, a mixture of earth, leaves, trees and plants, and something I can only think of as the Deva of the land, were right out of my childhood.

As the day wore on and the feeling of loss came back again and again, I decided I needed to know more about my brother and how he is faring now. I know he's with the Ancestors and I imagine this as a great and good homecoming. I imagine him strong and his sorrow gone and his body healed. I imagine him visiting with old friends, seeing our mother and our father and our grandparents and other people we've not met in this lifetime. Some that he may only hear about there, as they are back on this side now in a new part of the story of their soul's journey.

Back when Mom died, I missed her a lot, but it wasn't long before she visited me in a dream. There was also a time before that when I fell asleep out in the field -- just got very tired walking the hills and lay down for a bit to look at the sky and fell asleep. In that dream I saw her -- far off -- walking in a garden. I knew she was fine and knew she was happy -- even before she made her visits in dreams.

But with my brother I was only getting what I was giving, only my belief of what happens after death -- and really, no one knows. I wanted to know that he was ok.

So I did what I do. I went to the runes first and Eihwaz came. This is the rune of the Yew tree and it is a rune of death and of return. It's often said that Yew trees in a graveyard sigh when the departed have something they want to say to those left behind.

Next I went tot he cards. I did a full reading and the cards showed his failing health (Sun in the past) and his feeling of isolation (4 of cups crossing) and showed that he was in the hospital when it happened (4 of air as the base card) and then showed the ten of cups in the result of the first part of the story. He had seen all his kids and their kids only two weeks before he died -- as they all visited for the funeral of his father-in-law.

Two cards came as message cards: one was death -- which stood to reason. The other was High Priestess. Immediately, I knew that he was in a healing place, gaining enlightenment and being instructed on how to let go of what he'd known here. That's what High Priestess means -- it means letting go of the physical and gaining the higher view - she is the Teacher.

There'll come a time when i'll see my brother in my dreams. He's been in my dreams time and again while in this life. Right now, he's nowhere to be found on  the other planes. Call it a spiritual rehab, a place where he is surrounded by the loving light that heals all. One by one, he will let go of what he's known here.

There was good reason why our ancestors knew to stop the clocks, cover the mirrors, and give a good send off at the wake. And then, to not speak the name for awhile, allowing the transition to be a good one.

It will be good to greet my brother this fall when the veil is thin, to honor him at the time of Summer's end. Maybe he'll be up for a visit by then, and come see me in my dreams.
Delbert and me -- 1972, on my graduation day.

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