By: Gerri Graves
Word on the Street Issue 46, August 2024
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First harvest. Ceremonies involving wheat, bread and late summer’s early offerings. The days begin to shorten, and so offerings of the prior are prepared for Lugh. Feasts & gatherings surround this sabbat. A celebration of what the earth has gifted us; sustenance through the harsh winter.
One tepid October afternoon, I gathered my sweet babe in my arms and readied for her daily bath.
She was born with a rare disease- epidermolytic hyperkeratosis (EHK), a form of Ichthyosis, and required long bath soaks in oils and a capful of bleach. She couldn’t shed her skin like you and I……and was subject to blisters, cracking to the dermis level and staph infections. The baths were necessary to maintain her pain levels. We sealed in that long soak with aquaphor…….to maintain moisture content.
This daily process was a time consuming event. She required so many ointments, bandages and special gauze (affixed without any adhesives)…..that I had a little wagon filled with everything we’d need. Whether it was for a diaper change, bath or wound, I could wheel it wherever she was, instead of risk tearing her skin by picking her up.
I brought in the wagon, her clothes and loads of toys, to keep her busy during her long soak. She had her favorite…..those colorful foam letters that floated all around her. She liked to see them pop up. It made her giggle…..which made me a happy mom.
I wanted to catch those giggles on film, this particular day, and brought in our video camera. I started filming and called her name to get her attention. Morgause looked up at me and smiled…..and as she did, she let go of the letters she was holding underwater.
Up popped a W. And then a G. Then an O. And lastly, a D. I wasn’t paying attention, as I was focused on her smile.
She died the very next day.
It wasn’t until family started coming in from all over the US, that someone caught it. My ex had played the tape for both our families that trickled in and out over the next week. It was his brother that saw it……WGOD…..with God.
Everyone was moved to tears. I, on the other hand, was somewhat mortified.
Don’t come for me, Susan (lol). Let me explain……
The southern side of my family were all Evangelical or Southern Baptist. The northern side of my family followed a different sect of Christianity.
Both sides, either loudly or subtly, believed in a modern sort of segregation. My southern clan could be outright racist. My grandmother read to us from the book of revelations at bedtime. She reminded us at the end of every letter, or birthday card stuffed with five dollars…..that, “Jesus was coming. Get right with God. Go to church……or the eternal fires of hell await you.”
The church my northern side belonged to, wasn’t much better……but quieter about it. I witnessed them publicly chastise a teenage girl who became pregnant. I saw a faithful, pious Hispanic family forbidden to take an active role in Sunday services. I, personally, was called into my uncle’s office (who was a leader in the church) and belittled because someone saw a boy kiss me.
Mind you, I was on the receiving end. He didn’t ask permission……and honestly, I didn’t much care for the boy. Permission would have been denied.
But that mattered not, to my uncle. I was acting loose with my morals……and must change my ways.
Did the boy get called into my uncle’s office, you ask? Why…..no. No, he didn’t. Just the refuse from Babylon…..little ol me.
All I’ve ever known of organized religion was hellfire, brimstone…..and the burning pits I was headed towards if I didn’t ‘get right with Jesus’ and ‘change my loose ways.’ They were exclusionary, elitists that based peoples worth on the knowledge of their version of the Bible’s words and the color of their skin.
The idea of my beautiful baby…..in the arms of a God that burns people for eternity, scared the s*** out of me.
I stayed clear of churches. Found my own solace in nature and the infinite universe. If there is a God, surely he is in every petal of every flower, every leaf on every tree. He’s in the dawns and sunsets. He’s in the vast oceans and abundant rivers. He’s in the night sky….and is kind enough to leave millions of twinkling night lights.
Mother nature is in there too. You can’t have the masculine, without the feminine counterpart. Life isn’t created singularly…….it takes two, doncha know.
I loved humanitarians……and reveled in their words. I saw Jesus as a humanitarian and a valid person to be revered. I heard his words and respected his kindness and loving nature of all living beings. I wanted to work towards emulating his love of all people, although I fall short most of the time. But, there is good in the trying, no?
But I felt like I would have to claim Christianity, in order to follow his teachings. Like he was forbidden to me, unless I followed the ways of either branches of my family.
Today, I was at Cathedral of the Rockies (COTR), peddling papers for the community, and listening to Pastor Duane Anders’ service and message on ‘Faith and Atheism’. He spoke of Gandhi….and his messages of peace, love and Jesus. One of these messages ended in something like….”Jesus is for all of us, not just some of us.” No matter what you believe in, you can believe in his compassion and claim him.
That had such a profound meaning for me. There was no absolutes or veiled threats, just …..appreciating a fellow soul that lived long ago, but had such a sincere existence….that we still talk of him today.
I didn’t mean for this to turn into a religious convo……it’s not, really. It’s more of…..we need to find a way to bring humanity back together again. Humanitarians aren’t copyrighted. Their words are not meant only for the most righteous among us. Church is not a country club, that excludes undesirables.
I have a saying that I’ve loved from the first time I’ve said it. Sometimes, my brain thinks of clever things….and I’m wont in reusing them. So let me say them, again, for the record: “God did not create borders, man did.”
When you hear of far off wars, genocide, starvation, natural disasters, water deserts, slavery, apartheid, bigotry, anti-Semitism, violations of human or civil rights……please remember this– these are not foreign people that these atrocities are happening to, but OUR PEOPLE.
This whole planet, on every land mass, in every color, every religion…..every ethnicity…..OUR PEOPLE.
A slight to any fellow human being, is a slight to all of us. God…..whatever name you know him by, made us all…..in his image.
The mistake is not in the diversity of his/her creations, the mistake is how we interpret it. How we twist words to alienate and promote hate. How the deaths of certain people are acceptable, but others….intolerable.
Americans purchased over 5.5 million guns in the first half of 2024……and I doubt there will be as many hunting licenses issued for deer season. Many of these guns are only used for one purpose…..killing other humans.
What is the answer? Is it…..finding a church? Sure…..if that is your inclination. However, I’m going to keep searching for words from humanitarians that understand/understood that all life is sacred.
I can now say, with relief, that my daughter is ‘with God’. Whether he has a halo or horns…..he sends forth his messengers in the most unlikely of packages. I’ll search for their words, clutch them to my bosom and hope the rest of the world finds them too.