Momentum

So back in January, I wrote about some creative pursuits that I was looking at. And then I sort of let it go for awhile, because I wasn't sure about how to write about religion, spirituality, faith and where they intersect with politics for the audience I was hoping to reach — the LGBT community. Was I even really qualified? Doubt had set in. But in the last couple of weeks, I took the leap of faith that I needed to, and made it happen. In the next week or so, my new blogging project will begin, and I'm really excited to be able to finally reach the larger audience with the messages that I've wanted to, thanks to teaming up with a well known website in the Chicago area. More on that to come, after the official launch. I know that Delle will guide me and encourage me, as she always did, in my writing. I'm only somewhat prepared for the fallout that may come my way as result of such writings — but as I witnessed with Delle, I know the consequences of speaking out politically against the RCC. I will have to give quite a bit of thought to my words and their consequences before having them published, from here on out. But this is what I've been moving towards for quite some time, so though I will move cautiously, I will move forward. The momentum is with me now. May my conscience continue to be formed in the Light of Christ, as I speak truth to power.

5 years

Dear Delle,

There have been long periods where I had felt like I had lost my connection with you...wondered if you were simply 'at rest,' or focusing your spiritual energy elsewhere — like on Ramona whom I would expect you would be watching over ceaselessly. But lately I have heard your voice vividly, loudly even, so I know you are still with me. Maybe more so because of the struggles and heartbreaks that I have been through — that I know you could relate to so very well. I remember fondly our conversations about men and I wish I had the chance to come out to you before you died...but I know you read it in my eyes...you knew I think, what I wanted to tell you. You were just that...intuitive.

I'm really grateful that you are with me still...and I know you weren't keen on me referring to you as my "spiritual mother," (ok, ok...SISTER!), but you were the same age as my bio-mother after all. Please continue to pray for me on my journey. I will think long and hard about what it is that I am looking for next time before I write you any "lists," because I know you will give me whatever I ask for. Thank for all of the valuable lessons, even the ones learned the hard way. Sometimes there is no other way to learn, especially for stubborn bitches like us, eh? But I got it, I got it now.

I finally watched "For Colored Girls." I don't think Tyler Perry fucked it up too bad at all — you would have really liked the screenplay. I should probably buy it because I'm surely going to be watching it over and over, even if it is damned depressing! Wish I had the poster that hung in front of your door...or any of your art for that matter. More pieces of you in my life, because I miss you so much.

I know now that the times where I couldn't feel you in my life is because I had also lost myself. I had given myself away, just like the woman in blue. Can you believe that shit? After all I'd already been through? I know you can't. I can't either. I don't know how shit like that happens .... I was blindsided in a moment of terrible weakness. But I'm getting my act together, I promise. Not since that scandalous high school boy have I let someone drag me so damn low. I promised I'd never let that happen to me again...but here I am, picking up the pieces again. I will do whatever I have to do to protect myself and heal. Still I rise, Still I rise!

The good news: I'm surrounding myself with goodness. Quality people who are just: nice. Gentle. Peaceful. Kind. Oh, how I have longed for simple kindness for so long. I am learning that it is not something you should have to beg for! It should just come naturally. I am trusting that good things are on the horizon for me, so please keep praying for me Delle! My heart is remarkably resilient, I am finding. Or maybe I am just that romantic fool who refuses to give up on the notion of 'happily ever after.' Sigh.

The girls remember and talk about you often. Big M is in high school now and Little M is in 5th grade. Please also keep them in your prayers as they struggle with all of the challenges of adolescence.
And I'll be praying for Ramona and Gregory too.

All my love,
V

Legacy

Dear Cardinal George,
While you may be intent on punishing women who are called to the priesthood — do you realize that our little church in Chicago has had more women ordained than from any other Catholic church in the world?
This is the legacy, Cardinal George, that you are faced with — the chickens coming home to roost if you will. The Lord does work in mysterious ways! When you ordered Delle Chatman to stop talking about being called to ordination, and when the healthcare of a woman dying of cancer — that the Spirit would catch fire in our little church! Can you believe that little St. Gertrude's parish in Chicago has had so many women called? That we are surrounded in holiness? It's truly amazing to be a part of, to witness!

After Katy Zastick, Alta Jacko and Barbara Zeman were ordained through Roman Catholic Womenpriests, you knew you had to make an example of Janine Denomme — by denying her a funeral Mass. I mean, FOUR women called to ordination in a year — what if the POPE finds out what's going on at St. Gertrude's! Heads would surely roll!

But what can you do? I mean, the facts are the facts — the Spirit has got hold of the women of St. Gertrude's — and is having Her way with them! And not even the Pope can stop that....

On this day...

Continuing the tradition for this anniversary:

Dear Delle,
It gets jumbled up in my mind sometimes exactly how long you've been gone. Two years. It's been only two years but your absence is felt so deeply it feels like it has been much longer. This year I asked that your cobalt blue glass be put on our Ofrenda honoring Dia de Los Muertos at St. G's. It was nice to see it up there, along with the picture of you and Ramona dancing. I think you'd like Fr. Grassi. He gave a great homily last week about how losing people we love is something that we all have to experience — and that they continue to beckon us to new life with them in heaven. It makes me think of my grandpa, and how many funerals he had to go to in his 94 years, burying all of his friends.
Last weekend I went to an ordination held here in Chicago by Roman Catholic Womenpriests! I actually sang in the choir, if you can believe that. I remember you telling me that I shouldn't be afraid to sing if I enjoyed it, and well, the opportunity presented itself and I just couldn't pass it by. I wore your green scarf and pinned it with my Mary Magdalene broach. A woman from St. G's, Barbara Zeman, was being ordained, along with 3 other women who became deacons. It was awe-inspiring. I know you were there with us.
This last year has been a real struggle. I've been unemployed for 11 months now, just barely scraping by. Each month looks more and more disastrous. I remember you telling me how you'd cry out in your despair about bills, "Lord, I just know you're gonna take care of these bills," and somehow at the end of the month, things ended up ok. So I'm trying not to think about all the bills I don't see a way to pay. I'm counting on God to deal with it. And I'm not giving up on my career goals. It sucks being a starving artist, but it's too sustaining in so many other ways to give up. I know that I've got the talent to make it. Things will turn around.
Delle, I know you'd be shedding more than a few tears about our election results. Isn't it wonderful? I remember when Obama came on the scene and you predicted that he could be president some day. Some day is here! How can we help but feel hopeful with this stunning and historical development. This is a real opportunity for America. I sure hope we continue to rise to the occasion.
Things are going pretty well with The Nurse and the kiddos, all things considered. We are super stressed out, but we're striving to find ways to support each other and cherish what we have and avoid the flare-ups and stress-triggers that we end up taking out on each other. We're living on our dreams right now, hoping the future can bear some of them into reality. Have you got anyone's ear up there? The tough times are going around and I know you'll do what you can on your end to get the grace flowing. I went to Mass this morning and thought of you. Wondered if you've gotten to have any good conversations with St. Terese yet. We miss you. Little M was remembering you and Ramona last night. I hope that she is doing well, and I'm certain that your gaze is upon her always. We miss her too at St. G's. Send her our love, will you?
Love,
V

Will I see you in heaven?

I can't ignore the importance and depth of the connections that some people share. Sometimes you can see it in people's eyes. And even when our lives change, our circle of friends shifts, our lovers migrate — there is something that will always snap us out of our delusion that we let go or moved on: death. Some soul-bonds transcend it, of that I am certain.
An email made its way back to me today, one that I wrote a few years ago in response to a question that Delle posed about heaven in an online discussion:

The Communists at my work like to tease (and provoke) me every once in awhile by mocking the comcept of heaven, singing an old favorite of theirs: "they'll be pie in the sky when you die..."

And I have to say, I don't know about you all, but I give very little if any thought to heaven or the afterlife on a day-to-day basis. I guess this is where I become a very, very bad catholic. We are taught that this life is not the REAL life, that the real life is awaiting us, the kingdom...

But how can I help but live in anything but the present? Shouldn't I be motivated by other things than rich rewards and "pie in the sky" in how I live my life?

Also, I really, really like the concept of reincarnation. I think I've sort of morphed that belief to be sort of a "purgatory" that we go through until we reach Nirvana, which might be like heaven. I just have the sense that certain relationships that I have in my life are truly timeless, that we have known each other for many lifetimes. Anyone else ever feel that? Maybe we only reach heaven when we've worked out all that we need to work out. So, for me, heaven would be a soul-state of peace and union with the divine. I don't know if I believe that
we'll keep our bodies (though I say it every week in the creed; there's that darn creed again...) but I do believe that there is something significant we're to gain from having a body, that this form we take is important in some way.

Finally, when I was in fourth grade and taking catechism classes for first communion, we were talking about heaven when I suddenly found myself in a theological quandry that I put to the teacher, a former nun. "Say for
example that your father, whom you love dearly, committed a mortal sin for which he was not sorry, did not seek forgiveness for, did not confess, was not forgiven...therefore, he didn't go to heaven. Then how can heaven be
a perfect place if all the people that I love are not there with me?"

Her answer still floors me to this day: "Then you didn't really love him." I was an astute kid, so I knew instantly that she had it all wrong. That may have been my first incidence of questioning church authority, bucking the
system. But it was clear then that she was wrong, or at least I would not accept her answer as truth. I now knew that it was ok to disagree and question what I was taught, that they didn't really have all the answers. I really don't know what happens when I die, but I know that if there's a heaven, love will be there.

Which means everyone will be there.

Drawing Her down

Today as I found myself at the bookstore killing time while waiting for a tire to repaired at the shop down the block, I found just what I needed and purchased Sue Monk Kidd's The Dance of the Dissident Daughter, arguably the most influential book I've ever read. It still surprises me that until today, I've never owned a copy. I first read it years ago -- and it led me back to the Catholic Church in search of the Divine feminine.
I found Her there — in the mother-goddess presence of Delle, in the celebration of Mary Magdalene, in the traditions of the saints like Joan of Arc and St. Therese, in the stories of the many women lay preachers who came to the Sunday pulpit, and in myself.
Tonight the moon is full, and a total eclipse is scheduled in about an hour. It's freezing outside, but I find myself standing on the balcony, soaking Her in, drawing Her down and into myself once again.
Delle is gone, the Mary Magdelene celebration has lost it's subversiveness, I just learned that the archdiocese has cracked down on our parish's laywomen preachers, and I find myself searching once again for Her. I continue to struggle to image Her during the Sunday mass of "His" and "He" and "Father" and "Lord." And now that I can't even look forward to hearing Her through the voices of women at the pulpit, I wonder if She is leading me onward.
Tonight I am drawing Her down, searching once again, wondering where She will lead me now....

An anniversary

Dear Delle,
I can't believe it's been a year. Then again, I can't believe all that has happened since you've been gone. First, I just have got to say, that I deeply regret not coming out to you when I last saw you. I was searching for the words, but my attention was elsewhere — and before I knew it, my time with you was over. I thought we had more time. I know you did too. If not, you sure hid it well. All propped up on your big fluffy bed, nice crisp pajamas, ready to receive visitors. But when I came back the next day to bring Communion, the facade was gone. I noticed your swollen legs, your chalky white tongue, the distant look in your eyes as you grimaced at the pain.
I really miss you. I wish so much I could talk to you about everything in my life. Well, I do talk to you, I just have to be a lot more attentive to notice how you respond now. I felt you really strongly right after your death, you know. As strongly as I felt my granmother when she died. You both visited me in that uncertain space between dream and wakeful vision.
I couldn't bring myself to go to the Good Friday service this year. Remember how I prayed those days before Easter? I know that you do. My prayers were desperate and filled with longing and demands that my lonliness and hopelessness be removed. I was purging then — friends who didn't respect me, emotionally abusive lovers — and chasing down love in all the wrong places, finding only it's illusion. Remember that list I made in my diary on Palm Sunday? Everything I deserved and demanded from the Universe, combined with frustrated tears? I know you had a hand in manifesting those things in my life. Instead of missing you in the church pews Good Friday evening, I met a dream girl. The answer to my prayer that night.
So I'm in love! And she is wonderful, Delle. I wish you could have met her. She's a bit younger than me, a nursing student. I know how you felt about nurses — unsung angels. She's got a beautiful little girl, the same age as M.A.! She moved in with me a few months ago. We're making a life together with our brood of girls, and I'm counting on you to help me out from up there, sista. Relationships are hard work! So many hidden things about ourselves get dragged into the light where we're forced to deal with them. Lord knows I've got issues. I guess it's time to deal with them, huh? If I really want all the things on my list — which are now right at my fingertips — I've got to heal that broken girl-turned-woman inside. I need your help with that. T and I are overflowing with love for each other. I'm counting on love to see us through all the challenges. We're both committed to the health of our relationship, but we sure could use a sizable dose of grace from time to time! Oh no, you don't get to rest now — we need you to call in a few favors for us down here! I know what a workaholic you are anyway! I wonder what work God has for you now? I bet it's everything you ever dreamed of.
It's been a blessing to know that you're in our corner, always. I know if you've got God's ear, you're filling all of our lives with a constant flow of grace.
I've got an ovarian cyst. I had the CA-125 test and the results were normal but I'm not convinced I'm out of the woods yet. My doc wants to "wait and see" until March, where we'll take another look and talk about surgery. If there's anything you can do to help me out there, I'd be grateful. It would be more than ironic to me if I had to face the same disease that took you from us. That squatter better not try to find a home in MY ovaries!
We're all taking care of each other. The FaithFolk list continues, but has been silent so far this morning. We're all thinking of you, still greiving in our own ways. When we need each other, we reach out. I plan to write your brother a note today. I can still hear R singing 'The Deer's Cry' at your funeral. She is going to be an amazing woman one day. My heart is with her today too. What an incredible girl — to allow her mother to spiritually mother so many others. Damn, I wish I could hug you right now. A wink up at heaven will have to do.
All my love,
V
P.S. Oh, geez, how could I have forgot to mention this blog? Do you like the name? I know you'd get where I'm coming from with the Anima Sola image and it's many layers of meaning. You were always after me to write more, so here it is: my shot at filling a fraction of your shoes. I'm sure I don't bring my readers to the same spiritual heights that you brought so many, but I hope I at least stir a few souls from time to time. And I'm really enjoying my writing too — it really helps keep me open and grounded when all the stresses of life make me want to shut down and run screaming down the block. I'm only half kidding when I say that. It's become a real anchor for me in a turbulent sea. A source of graditude. I never would have started this blog if not for you. How am I doing?

Forever

The dreams and sensations of Delle have been so strong in the last week, I found myself today reviewing emails that she sent out a year ago. A year ago today, she told her friends that it was time to go into Hospice care — that her almost four-year battle with Ovarian cancer would soon be over. "The squatter," as she called it, was winning the battle within her body, leaving her weak and resigned.
She visited me again last night. I was sitting with her in her room, just chatting away about life. I was always so dependent and so grateful for her wisdom and guidance! But these days, when the anniversary of her death is looming just around the corner, I find that the sense of her does not leave me when I wake. She is with me again, just as she was in the days after her death when I could feel her all around me. Why has she come back? Is there something I need to know or realize or understand? Or is her presence now only the residue of a heart's memory? Or the longing of a soul that has felt lost at sea without her navigator?
"Either we believe in eternal life or we don't," she chided us one year ago today. She wouldn't tolerate tears or a fuss being made. She didn't want to have to live our grief with us, it was just too overwhelming for her. Actress that she was, she kept herself together in those last days, careful not to reveal her suffering — propped on her fluffy bed of white linens and wearing a long starched nightgown. I was so grateful to spend an afternoon with her, and even more so to come back again the next day with the Eucharist — where she revealed her secrets and shared her suffering with me: her swollen legs, her white tounge, the ever-constant pain and the long draws for breath.
I don't spend much time thinking about heaven or hell — but on days like today, I pray that heaven is real, that we will all be together again someday, that God is merciful. The tears have begun and I expect there will be more in the coming days. Believing in eternity lessens the blow, takes a bit of death's sting away. I need the comfort of that belief today. I haven't had a good track record of faith in the concept of forever. But I want to believe that it's possible more than anything right now.