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Occasionally I wandered in where I was not wanted and gave truthful answers.
Sometimes I even did it deliberately. A little disruption now can prevent disaster later.

Hollow

The house seems empty.

One companion passed at the end of October. The other companion had already moved.

I'm the only one who has a key anymore.

When I wake in the middle of the night, I don't smell anyone else in the bed. There's no one to argue over whose turn it is to load the dishwasher. There are no unexpected things in the washer or dryer. There's no sweet expectation because someone I care for is coming for dinner.

The house seems empty.

My aunt, my stepdad's sister, also passed in early October. I'd not seen her in years. About two years ago, Mom was on the way to see her when Mom rolled her car. Before that, it was about a year since Mom had seen my aunt. My stepsibs and I have not been back to Arkansas in decades. So I guess I really wasn't that close to my aunt. I certainly didn't think about doing a Lament for her.

I've always done some kind of mourning and withdraw when someone who was close to me died. When my stepdad passed, I formalized it. Thirteen days after, I withdraw from as many normal activities as I can. No internet, no books, no TV, no shopping. It helps me put it in perspective.

I need to do that.

When I met my first real love, we were both damaged. She lived with an intensity that dragged me into life. We spent a lot of time in some very weird headspaces. She left when our lives started moving in different directions. We really weren't that good for each other, and we weren't healthy to be around. Eventually I met a Lady God and my life changed into something I never dreamed. When my first love suicided, I swear I felt it. That may have been partially why I tried suicide years later. To this day, I don't know what really kept me from walking off that cliff.

For years after, I blamed myself for her death. It took me decades to move beyond trotting out the exquisite pain so I could reveal my victimhood.

So I did a Lament. I let go of the love and the pain and the passion. I put all that in the good memories. I use that in ritual each dawn and each sunset of those thirteen days. That which is remembered, lives.

A few years back, another former lover reached out to me when she was dying. Against the wishes of her husband. She told us both it was time to patch up our friendship. I don't know if either of us will ever be comfortable with that, but we both loved her in our own way. It was the way to honor her memory.

The house still seems empty.

My other companion came for a few days visit. We went to the funeral together. She held me at night when the sadness got too much. We shared a night or two. It might be the last. Her career is taking her places. She's younger than I. I am still Mom's caretaker so I can't exactly follow.

Why am I telling you this? Because this is it. I won't do the "poor little me" thing. It was tragic. I will miss my beloved companion and she moves along the Wheel.

Next week I'll be going back to regular blogging. But tonight I am going to watch the Lady Moon.

The house seems empty. I need to do something about that.

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A narrow slice of life, but now and again pondering American neopaganism, modern adult pagans & the World.

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