’Tis the ancestors’ breath, when the fire’s voice is heard,
’Tis the ancestors’ breath, in the voice of the waters . . .*
I felt a strong connection today to the prompts about my “beloved dead” and to ancestor altars. My heart felt full and appreciative today. After a lot of thoughtful effort from my mom and aunt to pack them up for me and then a cross-country drive by my uncle driving them to me in Missouri from California, I now have my grandma’s collection of international dolls from her many travels. I didn’t expect to have these and I feel very thankful for the thoughtfulness and love that went into getting them to me. I set them up tonight which felt like setting up an ancestor altar of sorts. I added some small dolls of my own and was touched to see how many “matchers” there were in our collections–meaning I had one that I’ve kept since she gave it to me as a child and then she had a matching one in her own collection.
My 4.5 year old daughter helped me unpack them and get them all set up. Another link in the chain…
Then, I looked at the tops of my bookshelf and realized I already have quite an altar there. In the middle, there is a box with my grandma’s Dionne Quintuplet dolls + her beloved Hitty doll and a photo of her. On the other shelf is a case with some of my grandma’s Shirley Temple dolls as well as some of my own dolls. On top of that shelf is a drawing of my grandma and also a “four generations” photo of my great-grandma, my grandpa, my mom, and me. (My mom is very much alive, but the others are my beloved dead.)
Today also made me think of two of my past posts for Feminism and Religion:
An Epic Woman: A Feminist Eulogy by Molly
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*From the song “Breaths,” lyrics by Birago Diop, music by Ysaye Barnwell, and recorded by Sweet Honey in the Rock. Listen to the song here. (via 30 Days of Hecate)
WoodsPriestess 