|My favorite witch|
I love witches, their history, their mystery, and the good work that they do. My husband and I have favorite Halloween movies and shows that we watch, including The Good Witch, Hocus Pocus, Witches of Eastwick, Fairy Tale: A True Story, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, and others. It's just what we do.
So I went down into our basement to bring my witches upstairs and my little purple furry bat and my paper pumpkin dangle pull-string doll that I like to hang on the front door, but I forgot that we had a basement flood and everything was moved in a frenzy to get things out of the water several weeks ago.
I stood in the basement next to the Christmas ornament tubs on the shelves, and put my finger to my lips, wondering where my pink tupperware tub of witches was. It used to be right on the floor next to the Christmas ornaments.
I thought maybe I'd forgotten, and they weren't in a pink tub. And I opened the lid of a big plastic tub which held my daughter's cheerleading pompoms and outfits and I spun around, reeling - oh! Oh! That was not my witches.
So I realized they might be in the next basement room and walked through the semi-darkness into the area where we had put all the tubs full of my daughter's sacred things. They had been stacked against the wall in the driest spot, safe from floods, and I discovered they were piled atop with all kinds of other things, one of which flipped my heart right over.
It was something her birth father "created" in 2001 when he'd taken her for a major haircut. It was a stupid box picture frame with her photo in it and a long, long ponytail of her beautiful hair. Jess had said when he gave it to her that she thought it was kind of creepy. And when she sorted out her stuff in the basement one year while visiting, she had put it in a bag for the trash pile. He'd installed a brass plaque with the date, along with her ponytail and I picked it up and flipped it upside down and it made a very satisfying thump. But my heart thumped along with it. What the hell do you do with something like this when your beautiful daughter has passed? It is not right to put it into the trash. And it would kill me to hang it up somewhere, "Oh I have my daughter's hair but I don't have her!" I couldn't do that.
So in the wee hours of the night I brought it upstairs and took it apart. I didn't care about the stupid brass plaques, I kept the beautiful photo, and I took the ponytail out. Oh so beautiful and oh such sparkly suncatching hair so soft. I took off the damn velcro around the ponytail and I made a new ponytail with my soft little tiny rubber bands and I wove two love braids, a big one, and a little one.
|Beautiful sparkles, which I'm sure she's still sparkling|
I had some volunteer snapdragons that had grown by the doorway of my studio and I picked some.
|Volunteer sunshine happiness|
The walk was supported by my little yard fauna and fellows.
|My beautiful fern and hosta friends encouraged me to keep going.|
I kneeled on the ground and felt my knees get wet with dew. I inhaled the beautiful fragrance of the earth, oh so sweet, and dug a hole. And put flowers in. And put her beautiful hair in. And covered it up. And put flowers on top.
And I got up with the dawn rising and the mists all around me and I was comforted by beautiful flowers on the way back.
|Sweet flowers on the way back|
|Sweet garden friends on the way back|
|Life in all its stages|
|Peace in the night|
And I slept a lot.
And now we turn our attention to other stories of the season - Leprechauns, Fairies, and Dreams.
We can do hard things.