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Recently
our local community underwent a personal tragedy to one of our members.
During this time my dear Brother wrote this lovely letter-story. He has
allowed me to publish these words and asked me to publish my return letter
to him as well. A Conversation on Grief
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My Dearest Sister Dragon, I did not trust myself to post the following on any list, but it felt like something I had to write. If you feel it bears repeating, please do with my thanks and blessing. Otherwise, thank you for the time you took to let me unburden myself. Love and Light, and Hugs always; Alan A Conversation Sometimes the nights work their way into the early morning darkness, the kind that seems to have no hours, only the long tick of the clock. Nights like these come to me when I weigh questions, and look for some sort of meaning in the puzzle of things. It's like looking for a portrait in the static of a tv set. Images, faintly resolved, drift away in the blur of grays on whites. You're left wondering if what you saw was real, or a ghost summoned by tired imagination, and thoughts that prowl without rest. I was in the grip of this sort of night. Unable to sleep, I walked downstairs to the living room; nothing to guide me but the coal of a cigarette, burning like a lantern hung from the prow of an old sailing ship. Nothing of real illumination here, just a marker that declared, in bobbing red, 'something is passing this way.' By touch and sense of darkness alone, I found my way to the couch and sat, heels jammed up on the edge of the coffee table. A friend of mine had suffered a terrible loss, the sort that I doubt I'll ever truly understand, and I was having a hard time making any sense of it. So I did what I could. I sat, and smoked, and let the little carnivore thoughts chase themselves through my brain. In the flare of a match, I caught the brief light of Her profile. A lady, dressed well but simply, shedding a pale blue light; sitting quietly in one of the living room chairs. She must have been sitting there for quite some time, but I hadn't noticed Her. Caught up in the red glare of tobacco smoke and dark thoughts, I guess. I saw Her now, clearly; felt Her presence; knew who She was. I just watched Her. I drew smoke into my lungs, paused, then exhaled a thin cloud, and a few more minutes of my life. "You've been thinking," She said. "Things trouble your spirit, make you angry, and you've been thinking of them; thinking of Me." "Yes, I have. Can't say I'm very happy with the thoughts, either. Or with You for that matter." "What drives this thing within you?" "I've been thinking about a friend who lost something she shouldn't have lost. It got me to thinking about some pretty big questions. Like why would that happen to her? Why should it? I mean, the child was maybe a week from term. That's a pretty cruel thing to do. I look around me, see things that by any right shouldn't happen, but they race unchecked. What kind of god would do this? What kind of god would take a baby from people who want one so desperately, but allow a child to be born to a family where it will be abused? What kind of reasoning goes on here? What the Hell do You and Your counterpart think You're doing?" "You question Us?" "Yes! Yes, dammit, I do! And why not? All we hear, time and again, is something mumbled about 'god's will,' and it doesn't matter which god you care to name because the patter is always the same. Well, no more of it! These are big questions, and I think we're all entitled to some answers! So can the chatter, and let's try the truth for once!" That was when I saw Her cheeks. They were glistening from an unrelenting stream of tears. Her face reflected sorrow of a kind I'd never seen. And her voice was so soft, so still. "We would have changed that. If We could." "...I'm sorry ... I don't understand ..." Her voice, so soft. Scarce a whisper, "Do you truly think Us to be so heartless? Every year, I see my Husband go into Darkness, and I am left alone; without Him. Do you think it lightens Me any to know that He takes the Souls of others to a place of safety and haven? Do you think that, because I will see Him again, My heart tears less at the loss of Him? We know love, and we know loss, as deeply as you. We know the losses you feel, and We feel them as closely as Our own. We try to take a portion of this burden from you. As much as We share your happiness, We grieve with you, as well." "But you don't change it. Why?" My voice had grown softer, too. I was no longer angry, yet I had to know. "The fabric of all that must be is woven so. Things happen as they do, and there is little We can do to alter these shapes. These destinies touch others that are farther removed in time from you than you can imagine. All we may do is give you some of the Light, so that you may carry it and gain something from it. "Please understand. We could not alter what was taken. But we could do one thing." I leaned closer, "What would that thing be, Lady?" "We could give you each other. Your spirits are in this time, this place, as part of what must be. But you do not have to be alone. In sorrow as much as happiness you can draw close and be with each other. You can share a light that is each of you, let it give warmth to all of you. Will you do this, please? For Us or for yourselves, will you do this?" My voice, the whisper now, "Of course, Lady ... of course ..." I went to Her, began to dry Her tears. In time, my own came, too.
Dearest Brother Dragon, Thank
you so much for sharing this with me. This too, this confused pain, is the Dragon, though not the side of the Dragon that we enjoy. I have wondered, and kept silent about, why I could not *see* the child dancing through the shop, and I really desired to have that fear proven wrong. I too, pound my head against the "whys." What is the good that comes of this? Does it herald new growth for them? Does the FL pagan community somehow become stronger for this mourning together that we must keep quietly wrapped away so that our own grief does not intrude on those with the most right to greive? Does this help G to heal the wounds of her own lost child? Or help S to regain closeness with X? Do we somehow become better priests for having bourne this? Or is this just some mad scheme of the Dragon to explore pain? For after all, the Dragon is All things, not just good, not just kind. Here is one thing that I do know. Events have no meaning save those meanings we give to them. For we exist not within the events, but within our experience of those things. Thank you, dear Brother Dragon, for offering meaning to this. A meaning that brings Light and Love and Hope back out of the Pandora's Box it has been hiding in, and allows it to shine in my world. Much much love, Lion
. . . Finally, for now at least, I am reminded of one of the psalms. It's closing line asked "What is man, that Thou art mindful of him?" I find myself compelled to ask a similar question, one that may carry the seeds of its own answer, "Who are we, that the Gods would ask us to dry away Their tears?" ~Hugs, Alan
Despite the copyright notice below, this story is actually copyright to Alan 02/01 and not to myself. |
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