Goodbye to various friends

Tomorrow, on solstice, I am saying goodbye to fellow expatriate of pagan priestess, M. I could always count on her to snicker about some of the customs the English seem to find so important, like sneering about "The Foreign" yet ever so happy to take taxes earned by said furringers. She was brilliant...and yet, as I had done several times before, when she said she was feeling tired, I directed her to see her doctor as the last few times friends of mine had complained of sudden weariness, it had turned out to be cancer.

Sure enough...

She fought hard, but terminal is terminal. As one of her last wishes, she wanted me to attend a rite of the local coven in full voudoun regalia. Yes, I am certain she knew EXACTLY what she was asking, and what sort of shit that would stir, having that Foreign Tribal Energy at a very subdued ritual. Oh yes. She knew. And I was charged with this duty - and so shall be attending her funeral in white, with my hair bound back, chains and trinkets tinkling at neck and wrists and my carved cane in hand. Wherever she is I know she'll be laughing hysterically at the effects, damn it.

It's a hard enough thing to go through, but has been compounded by exes still quite sideways (although for the first time in years he is calling his son regularly to talk to him - child no longer asks his dad "What's wrong? Why are you calling?" so this is a step forward). Another blog I follow, a fellow carer has lost their son - an adult son, but a son nonetheless. My heart grieves.

It's a very grim Solstice this year, but I have still cooked a huge ancestral supper today, and I have served up the first and best portions to Powers That Be, and poured the wine and libations. I have greeted the dead and have said my farewells.

And tomorrow I bury a friend.