My Half Haitian Grand Mama came to me in a dream.
She was wearing her flapper wedding gown that she married my GrandPapa in, her veil covered a face that only hides just barely that which is now but a skull, but I was not afraid, just so glad to know that death allowed me to have a visit with her for a little while, and we prayed to the Loas (Spirits) together. And we danced to the beat of the trance inducing African drums in the distance.
She gave me instructions and told me of my familiar, things I already know, She is a cat as black as my hair and as white as my hateful pale skin. And she told me that my Shinobi (my black and hardly white Baroness Samedi) cat is a mojo she sent to me that will always protect me while she lives. After Shinobi she said she will send another, and another.
I love visitation dreams.
Today I have an altar to build, in preparation. I can almost hear the soft folk singers of Haiti and hear my accoustic guitar in my Grand Mama's herb garden (when I wasn't pulling weeds, gathering eggs for hexes and breakfast or planting seeds) as I played melancholy minor chord filled songs about the lost, the mixed, those of us who some people say should not even exist.
the black chickens would always come to listen. While Grand Mama slowly and humanely slaughtered the white ones for food.
She always wore her white starched dresses and apron (black for when she was slaughtering chickens) and a white cloth to cover her fine hair, and at night she wore a white nightgown, long and flowing like a ghost, I would brush and braid her hair right before she went to bed. French Braids. I was with her in the same room on the horrible night she died. She cried out in pain and joy as I stuck the needle repeatedly in her arm to ease her pain. I'm glad I was the one who got to set her up in the parlour for the viewing, I'm glad I got to braid her hair and tie her tingon for the last time, I'm glad I'm still here to carry on what she taught me. She made a doll of herself for me right before she died. Today I will find it and place it on the altar that I'm building.
I have much work to do to prepare.
DV
She was wearing her flapper wedding gown that she married my GrandPapa in, her veil covered a face that only hides just barely that which is now but a skull, but I was not afraid, just so glad to know that death allowed me to have a visit with her for a little while, and we prayed to the Loas (Spirits) together. And we danced to the beat of the trance inducing African drums in the distance.
She gave me instructions and told me of my familiar, things I already know, She is a cat as black as my hair and as white as my hateful pale skin. And she told me that my Shinobi (my black and hardly white Baroness Samedi) cat is a mojo she sent to me that will always protect me while she lives. After Shinobi she said she will send another, and another.
I love visitation dreams.
Today I have an altar to build, in preparation. I can almost hear the soft folk singers of Haiti and hear my accoustic guitar in my Grand Mama's herb garden (when I wasn't pulling weeds, gathering eggs for hexes and breakfast or planting seeds) as I played melancholy minor chord filled songs about the lost, the mixed, those of us who some people say should not even exist.
the black chickens would always come to listen. While Grand Mama slowly and humanely slaughtered the white ones for food.
She always wore her white starched dresses and apron (black for when she was slaughtering chickens) and a white cloth to cover her fine hair, and at night she wore a white nightgown, long and flowing like a ghost, I would brush and braid her hair right before she went to bed. French Braids. I was with her in the same room on the horrible night she died. She cried out in pain and joy as I stuck the needle repeatedly in her arm to ease her pain. I'm glad I was the one who got to set her up in the parlour for the viewing, I'm glad I got to braid her hair and tie her tingon for the last time, I'm glad I'm still here to carry on what she taught me. She made a doll of herself for me right before she died. Today I will find it and place it on the altar that I'm building.
I have much work to do to prepare.
DV
VIEW 15 of 15 COMMENTS
panda_pewp:
havent talked to you in a long time just wanted to stop by and say hi.....
havent talked to you in a long time just wanted to stop by and say hi.....
beckricci:
Wow. I am jealous of your connection with loved ones. There is so much alienation and mortal confusion that its quite rare to have influence and a deep relationship with others in this world or the next.