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Mercy and Compassion
Aug. 13th, 2011 09:39 pmThere are times when the Universe just WORKS.
Went up with Bu to be with Doc K. when his mother was buried. I had to put extra thick shields up in the funeral home so I wouldn't be curled up on the floor sobbing. I did get that strange tingling rush looking at Mrs. Kinne for the first and last time.
"Thank you for Rick," I whispered, bowing very low.
Catholic funeral Masses really do depend on the priest. I have a gut feeling that had the "family" priest had been serving, there would have been a lot more emotion and a lot less clinical in the homily. Bu almost made me swear in a church by making a brilliantly bad joke in the middle of Communion. (this was after I HAD sworn in church because there was congestion in the middle of the church before the ceremony started and no helpful hints for us guests hanging out behind the family. I'm SO not Catholic anymore.) NO, Doc K, that is NOT a criticism of you or your sister!!
I dropped my shields briefly to see if Mrs. Kinne had any messages I could pass on to Doc K. She did, and it took me a few minutes of sobbing to get my shields back up from all of the grief swirling around the church.
The ride to the cemetery was looong. Three inch heels are NOT good to be walking in soft graveyard soil. I do love the idea of planting a small food garden on someone's grave, but I'm not sure I'd be comfortable actually eating the produce.
Catholic Church Ladies are wonderful women. They provide food for after funerals. Seen it three times in my lifetime and it's always good food. The problem was that there wasn't enough Bu-friendly food for him to eat. So after several false starts, we managed to extract Doc K to go trawl for Buddha food.
One trip across the length of Rome, and a stop at a pizza place that didn't accept credit cards, we ended up at Applebees. I heart mojitos.
From there we took Doc K. back to his car, I hit the ladies' room, and we headed home. A lovely drive down 26 south and good conversation.
I had fibbed to Louuuu and said we were staying over in Rome. Bu and I had dinner at Niko's. I had the whole brook trout and yes, it DID come with the head. I cheered and the waitress was dumbfounded. We got home right after Zahde, and the three of us hung out, visited and watched Iron Monkey. Ok, I fell asleep through most of Iron Monkey, but the parts I had seen reminded me that I had seen it before. So, yay.
Today I took Bu back to Ithaca, with a side trip to Zahde's folks' house to meet her Greek God and Dryad cousins. I asked if I could stop at the Farmer's Market, as it was Saturday and I wanted to speak with the Dragon Scroll artist and inform him of Wolf's death. Walking through the crowded market was making me very nervous, almost claustrophobic. We found the artist and I told him about Wolf and the Dragon Scroll being all possessive of the Ritual Room. The artist, named Jim, was astonished by my story and kept repeating how impressed he was that the Dragon Scroll was really that powerful and that I was being such a good Guardian. He then named me a member of The Celestial Dragon Society. I brought up Zahde's idea for a Red Dragon and how the Dragon Scroll said "No more dragons, but I'll accept a phoenix." Jim doesn't paint phoenixes, but then he went and took down a large, square, Western framed painting of Quonli, the Taoist goddess of Mercy and Compassion.
"Here," he says, handing it to me. "This is Quonli. She's the one that stayed behind to hear and answer the lamentations of humanity. She's the Goddess of Mercy and Compassion and she'll help balance out the Dragon Scroll. I'm giving this to you."
Giving this to me. This is easily a $400 painting and he's GIVING it to me!
"I painted this a few months ago not really knowing why," Jim continued as I helped him wrap the picture in a plastic bag. "I just knew it needed to be done. Quonli watches over my shop here, and she always responds to those who call on her. I now know that you were meant to have this, so please take it and be well." I handed the picture to Bu and went down on one knee to Jim, hands together and head down.
"Thank you," I choked out. Jim patted my head.
"Please don't. Please don't." He said. I stood up and bowed deeply one more time before we said goodbye. I could feel the warm compassion and comfort seeping out of the picture as we carried it through the market. Bu stopped at two cider stands for tasting, I declined as my hands were still shaking from being given such a gift.
After two attempts to stop for food at dinner only places, Bu and I made it to the Commons and we scoped out Restaurant Row before I voted on Sahara. Our tapas-like choices turned out to be full appetizer sized portions. We took half of those home. Between that, Applebees and Niko's, I have lunches for half of next week. (^_^)
Since it was only about 3 pm, we headed over to Medusa Tattoo so I could talk to the artists about my black wolf tattoo. I had sorted down my choices to two drawings, then Madame Artist (whose name I cannot remember, Allison?) broke out the wolf books. I quickly found The Picture for the face and expression in the eyes, and as we talked she managed to find the Right Coloring on a different page. The Picture made my heart pound and tears spring to my eyes. It was so, well, Wolf.
I put my deposit down, discussed placement with Cesario and made an appointment for Oct. 22 at 4 pm. This will cost me $100-125, depending on time. I put $50 down.
I took Bu home, called Looo to tell her I was on my way, and headed out. About halfway home was when the tears started, as I realized that getting the tattoo is the final self-imposed statement of grief. Once I have the tattoo, the rings come off and are put away in a drawer. I know I'm ready for this, but at the same time I'm feeling rather shaken. I'm not getting a snarling, drooling wolf. I'm getting a watchful, protective wolf. The mantra that leaped into my mind is "I guard this heart until SHE says otherwise."
I pulled into Looo's feeling fundamentally changed. This allowed me to reach out and help Hands, Loooo's BFF, when she was having a small crisis. We made arrangements for her to come to dinner Monday night. I'm going to attempt Ratatouille again. I also told her that if she needed to, she was welcome to come over tonight and vent in the Ritual Room. Between the Dragon Scroll and Quonli, that room is pretty much covered.
Went up with Bu to be with Doc K. when his mother was buried. I had to put extra thick shields up in the funeral home so I wouldn't be curled up on the floor sobbing. I did get that strange tingling rush looking at Mrs. Kinne for the first and last time.
"Thank you for Rick," I whispered, bowing very low.
Catholic funeral Masses really do depend on the priest. I have a gut feeling that had the "family" priest had been serving, there would have been a lot more emotion and a lot less clinical in the homily. Bu almost made me swear in a church by making a brilliantly bad joke in the middle of Communion. (this was after I HAD sworn in church because there was congestion in the middle of the church before the ceremony started and no helpful hints for us guests hanging out behind the family. I'm SO not Catholic anymore.) NO, Doc K, that is NOT a criticism of you or your sister!!
I dropped my shields briefly to see if Mrs. Kinne had any messages I could pass on to Doc K. She did, and it took me a few minutes of sobbing to get my shields back up from all of the grief swirling around the church.
The ride to the cemetery was looong. Three inch heels are NOT good to be walking in soft graveyard soil. I do love the idea of planting a small food garden on someone's grave, but I'm not sure I'd be comfortable actually eating the produce.
Catholic Church Ladies are wonderful women. They provide food for after funerals. Seen it three times in my lifetime and it's always good food. The problem was that there wasn't enough Bu-friendly food for him to eat. So after several false starts, we managed to extract Doc K to go trawl for Buddha food.
One trip across the length of Rome, and a stop at a pizza place that didn't accept credit cards, we ended up at Applebees. I heart mojitos.
From there we took Doc K. back to his car, I hit the ladies' room, and we headed home. A lovely drive down 26 south and good conversation.
I had fibbed to Louuuu and said we were staying over in Rome. Bu and I had dinner at Niko's. I had the whole brook trout and yes, it DID come with the head. I cheered and the waitress was dumbfounded. We got home right after Zahde, and the three of us hung out, visited and watched Iron Monkey. Ok, I fell asleep through most of Iron Monkey, but the parts I had seen reminded me that I had seen it before. So, yay.
Today I took Bu back to Ithaca, with a side trip to Zahde's folks' house to meet her Greek God and Dryad cousins. I asked if I could stop at the Farmer's Market, as it was Saturday and I wanted to speak with the Dragon Scroll artist and inform him of Wolf's death. Walking through the crowded market was making me very nervous, almost claustrophobic. We found the artist and I told him about Wolf and the Dragon Scroll being all possessive of the Ritual Room. The artist, named Jim, was astonished by my story and kept repeating how impressed he was that the Dragon Scroll was really that powerful and that I was being such a good Guardian. He then named me a member of The Celestial Dragon Society. I brought up Zahde's idea for a Red Dragon and how the Dragon Scroll said "No more dragons, but I'll accept a phoenix." Jim doesn't paint phoenixes, but then he went and took down a large, square, Western framed painting of Quonli, the Taoist goddess of Mercy and Compassion.
"Here," he says, handing it to me. "This is Quonli. She's the one that stayed behind to hear and answer the lamentations of humanity. She's the Goddess of Mercy and Compassion and she'll help balance out the Dragon Scroll. I'm giving this to you."
Giving this to me. This is easily a $400 painting and he's GIVING it to me!
"I painted this a few months ago not really knowing why," Jim continued as I helped him wrap the picture in a plastic bag. "I just knew it needed to be done. Quonli watches over my shop here, and she always responds to those who call on her. I now know that you were meant to have this, so please take it and be well." I handed the picture to Bu and went down on one knee to Jim, hands together and head down.
"Thank you," I choked out. Jim patted my head.
"Please don't. Please don't." He said. I stood up and bowed deeply one more time before we said goodbye. I could feel the warm compassion and comfort seeping out of the picture as we carried it through the market. Bu stopped at two cider stands for tasting, I declined as my hands were still shaking from being given such a gift.
After two attempts to stop for food at dinner only places, Bu and I made it to the Commons and we scoped out Restaurant Row before I voted on Sahara. Our tapas-like choices turned out to be full appetizer sized portions. We took half of those home. Between that, Applebees and Niko's, I have lunches for half of next week. (^_^)
Since it was only about 3 pm, we headed over to Medusa Tattoo so I could talk to the artists about my black wolf tattoo. I had sorted down my choices to two drawings, then Madame Artist (whose name I cannot remember, Allison?) broke out the wolf books. I quickly found The Picture for the face and expression in the eyes, and as we talked she managed to find the Right Coloring on a different page. The Picture made my heart pound and tears spring to my eyes. It was so, well, Wolf.
I put my deposit down, discussed placement with Cesario and made an appointment for Oct. 22 at 4 pm. This will cost me $100-125, depending on time. I put $50 down.
I took Bu home, called Looo to tell her I was on my way, and headed out. About halfway home was when the tears started, as I realized that getting the tattoo is the final self-imposed statement of grief. Once I have the tattoo, the rings come off and are put away in a drawer. I know I'm ready for this, but at the same time I'm feeling rather shaken. I'm not getting a snarling, drooling wolf. I'm getting a watchful, protective wolf. The mantra that leaped into my mind is "I guard this heart until SHE says otherwise."
I pulled into Looo's feeling fundamentally changed. This allowed me to reach out and help Hands, Loooo's BFF, when she was having a small crisis. We made arrangements for her to come to dinner Monday night. I'm going to attempt Ratatouille again. I also told her that if she needed to, she was welcome to come over tonight and vent in the Ritual Room. Between the Dragon Scroll and Quonli, that room is pretty much covered.
