Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Sparks


It seems as if almost overnight, the season has altered as the days begin to draw in; the sun is lower in the sky, strange new breezes are arriving, cooler, laden with unsettling suggestions of changes to come. I've just finished watching the last episode of the wonderful The Duchess of Duke Street, which has stretched over two decades and through The Great War, which brought so many changes and losses. Louisa comments to a very dear old friend, who has just shared that he, too, will be leaving to marry, "I feel as if my world is getting emptier."

I know just what she means. At this point in my life, now into my 6th decade, I've seen far more people go than enter into this, my earthly experience. I grew up with a very large family about me, grand and great grandparents, dozens of aunts and uncles, more great and great-great relatives, and herds of cousins all about — 1st, 2nd, 3rd once and twice removed — how did they all vanish in such a short time? I can remember when I was told that the first of my many formidable aunts had made her transition . . . standing at the table in the kitchen, I felt some kind of bewildering shift take place in my life, a tectonic plate that had been unknown and inactive, now suddenly moving and displacing under my feet to accommodate her absence; the family tree was being pruned by some Great Hand. Of course, more blossoms and fruits arrived in the form of nieces and nephews, and a few pests disguised as in-laws, but they felt more like afterthoughts placed in newer and relatively more stable areas of life, of which they had much more left than us original settlers.

As the years passed, more branches were damaged or lost in the many storms of life. Less than a couple percent of my social circle survived the AIDS plague of the 80's and 90's, including Tim — well over 100 people in all. Every time someone made their transition, it felt as if the long, long line I'd been standing in for many years got shorter as it moved me forward, slowly but inevitably to the front, where it became clear there was a door of some kind. Sometimes I would notice that someone behind me had vanished as well. My world was getting emptier.

It has always been with immense gratefulness that I was also aware of many of the intrepid travelers as they journeyed into their new Risen lives; some kept in touch, but most did not, for all kinds of reasons too weird and even wonderful to try to explain here in human terms. Those who stayed or lingered long enough assured me, without any doubts, that I've not been forgotten either, and that what I experience as "life" here is incomparable with what's waiting for me on the other side of the door. Someone from There once gave me the comparison of a spark flying out of a campfire, up into the darkness, so fast its journey couldn't be seen in any great or lasting detail. I am such a spark, and will soon enough be joining the stars overhead. I rest in total assurance that what's on the other side of the door is beyond my wildest dreams, that there are more people awaiting my arrival there than who left me here, and that "a way has been prepared for me." My world will fill back up so instantly and vibrantly, with more magic and fun, companionship and learning, people and animals, that I will scarcely even remember ever having been a spark from a lonely campfire.

3 Comments:

At Sat Oct 02, 09:20:00 PM 2010, Blogger french said...

Dear August,

I too look forward to my transition - to being with the person I love most, who has been in Spirit (he never uses the term "Risen") a very long time. We've been in contact for nearly four years now, and sometimes I remember the time I spend with him while my earthly body sleeps.

I mentioned in another comment that I'm re-reading The Risen at present, and your descriptions of Bridget's and Oolong's transitions are close to home. My Katie crossed in my arms nearly two years ago - heart failure following cancer, while in the car to take her to the vet to make that journey. I had expected, all her thirteen years, to be devastated when she left, because I just adored that wicked little cat. But by the time she crossed, I'd been in contact with my beloved for nearly two years, and I knew - didn't believe, didn't hope - I knew she would be alive and he would take care of her. He brought her back for the first of many visits just two days later, and she has him wrapped around her little paw, as is only right and proper for a queenly cat!

I saw The Duchess of Duke Street too, back when it was first on television. Good series, from what I remember!

Regards,
Louise

 
At Sun Oct 03, 02:48:00 PM 2010, Blogger August Goforth said...

What a wonderful thing to hear about your Katie, the wicked little thing! Cats continue to do pretty much whatever they want, here or There.

By the way, re: Dutchess of Duke Street - the main character is played by Gemma Jones, who is now a main character in, of all things, the newest Woody Allen film!
- August

 
At Sun Oct 03, 10:44:00 PM 2010, Blogger french said...

So true, so true! Louis says Katie's queen of the house, at least in her own estimation, and that cats have never forgotten their glory days in Egypt, and who are we to quibble? (This from a man who was always more of a dog person, too.)

Gemma Jones in a Woody Allen film - now that stretches the imagination! The only other thing I've seen her in was Emma Thompson's "Sense and Sensibility".

Regards,
Louise

 

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