A Shrine for my Mother

A while back, my friend, Jamie and I were prowling through antique stores in Boulder City and I found this

Kind of blurry - sorry

It was love at first sight and since it was only $35, I had to have it.  I immediately thought "ofrenda" for Dia de los Muertos. Well, that day is fast approaching and it's looking pretty bare. Meaning I need to stop procrastinating and get it together.

I have been thinking about making shrines for my parents for a long time.  That's all I've been doing. Thinking about it. For years. For some reason, I've had a really difficult time doing it.  The loss of my parents (my mom in 1985 and my dad in 1997) was nothing less than devastating. My mom, who was my best friend in so many ways, was only 48 when she died of complications due to multiple sclerosis. The older I get, the more I miss her. My father was 59 when he died. I am so grateful that I really got to know him during the last three years of his life.  He'd come out to visit and we'd stay up all night long talking about everything.  I've never thought, "Oh, I wish I'd said this, or told him that," because I did.  I just wish we'd had more time.

Today, I created my long-overdue shrine for my mother.

The lid of the box

I have been saving these crayon boxes for years (literally), thinking they'd make good shrines. They do.

Inside

I'm sure as the years go by, I'll find other things to put into and around the shrine.

It doesn't look quite so bare now.

Our Samhain/Dia de los Muertos altar has usually consisted of photographs: family, beloved pets, people who have influenced us in some way - artists, writers, musicians. I kind of like the idea of shrines, though. I'm already thinking about an accordion-type book to house all the pictures of our pets for next year's altar.

But first, I'll get to work on my father's shrine.

How do you honor your ancestors and loved ones at this time of year?

What I did this weekend...

Spooky tree ATCs

Spooky tree envelopes

A Time For Letting Go

I've been thinking a lot about what I wanted to say in my 100th post.  At this time of year there is much focus on honoring the lives of those who have gone before.  This is a big part of my celebration of the holiday.  But I have also been thinking about letting go of those things that no longer serve me.  It's a bit of "fall housekeeping" -- physical, emotional, and spiritual.  It has always made sense to me that if you are inviting the ancestors in for the dark half of the year, then you should do so with a clean house, both literally and figuratively.  Thus, I have been clearing out a LOT of baggage in every sense of the word.  The amount of physical stuff I have acquired over a lifetime is staggering.  And embarrassing.  Every time I send another box or bag out the door, I feel just a bit lighter.  Obviously, this culling is going to take some time, but now that the process has been set in motion I hope to have things pretty much cleared out by spring.  There is absolutely no reason for me to have all this stuff (there probably never was a good reason).

I have also been thinking about my interior life.  Cleaning out the cobwebs here is a bit more challenging, as it requires serious reflection on who I was, who I am now and who I am becoming.  I find letting go of old notions of personal identity somewhat uncomfortable.  As silly as it may sound, my hair was one of those things.  I know intellectually that my hair isn't me, but for most of my life I've thought of it as an outward manifestation of who I was.  However, that shaggy mess looked bad, was hard to take care of and spent most of it's time pinned to the top of my head.  Now that I've cut it off, my life suddenly became a bit easier -- no more fussing, drying, styling.  Now I can hop out of the shower, towel it off and go.  Easy.  It occurs to me that this is a  metaphor for all of life's baggage.  I spend so much time hanging onto "stuff" and once I let it fall away, life becomes much easier.  The path is cleared to move on.  In letting go of "old me" things, the "new me" rushes in to fill that space.  Rather than being scary, I find it a relief.

May the season bestow its gifts upon us all.  May we have the courage and grace to receive them.  Blessed Samhain, everyone.