I Open to my Ancestors (A Photo Gallery)

Tonight is Samhain. It is All Hallows Eve. It is a night where the walls between this world and the next are thin. This is the night where the dead bleed through and if you wish to connect with them, you can listen to them, you can sense when they're present, and you can entice them to come. You can also make simple offerings to honor their place and presence in your life.

Because They Were...You Are.

I honor my beloved dead, those I knew in this world, and my ancestral dead, those who paved the way for me.

I pour water in the glass cup on my Ancestor Altar. I light a candle in my fossil candle holder. It is the lighthouse guiding their way to me. I light more candles for specific prayers. I take in a breath and as I exhale I open my heart. I open myself to spirit world. I am not the lighthouse.

I am the light.  

~~*~~

I open to my Grandparents:  

Richard James Riddle & Donna MacDonald, both my beloved dead

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With her much-loved cat Bella.

Patricia Art, my beloved dead
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Mark Dutcher Eaton, my beloved dead, & Ruth Emma Ruston
~*~

I open to my Great-Grandparents:

Harold Riddle & Elsie Elizabeth Durant, my beloved dead
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With daughters Dolores & Biddy.

Robert Joseph Art & Margaret Loretta Burke
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Frank William Ruston & Minnie Estelle Wicker
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Royal Levant Eaton & Hattie Eva Smith
~*~

I open to my Great-Great-Grandparents:

Frances & Lafayette are in the center, front.

Lafayette Riddle & Frances Ann Gillette [NY]
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George Frances Durant & Emma Louise Burnah [NY]
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George Art & Katherine Pils [NY]
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Frank Burke & Eliza Conners [NY]
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Ruth & Charles are in the center back.

Charles Evan Ruston & Ruth Ireland [both from England]
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Hiram & Emma are the center couple.

Hiram King Wicker & Emma Angeline Whitcher [NY]
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Bennett Eaton & Theresa Cordelia Tenney [MI/NY]
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Silas Parker Smith & Hattie Eva Dutcher [NY]
~*~

I open to my Great-Great-Great-Grandparents:

Marquise DeLafayette Riddle & Sarah Clickner [NY]
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Levi & Jane are seated in the second row.

Levi Gillette & Jane Berry [NY]
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Albert Durant & Rosella LaValley [both from Quebec]
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Samuel Burnah [from Quebec] & Mary (unknown) [NY]
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Adam Art & Katherine Maria Schmeelk [both from Germany]
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John Pils & Mary Burzee [both from Germany]

Thomas Burke & Ellen (unknown) [NY]

David Conners & Mary Dowd [both from Ireland]

Richard Ruston & Anna Richardson [both of England]

William Ireland & Phoebe Lenton [both of England]

Thaddeus Rice Wicker & Cynthia Lusk [VT/NY]
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Bailey Harrison Whitcher & Ordelia de Lozier [VT/NY]
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Solomon Gould Eaton & Hannah Ann Treadwell [NY]

Philetus Tenny & Malvina H. Targee [NY]
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Ammi Smith & Sophia Sears [NY]
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Reuben Feagles Dutcher & Eliza Marsh Bird [NY/MA]
~*~

I open to my Great-Great-Great-Great Grandparents:

Freeborn Moulton Riddle & Abigail Chaffee [MA/NY]

William Clickner & Mary Ann Hayner [NY]

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Ezra Wheeler Gillette & Mary Ann Boots [VT/NY]

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Francis Berry & Elizabeth Ann Hill [NY]

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George Durant & Safrona (unknown) [both of Quebec]

Francois Xavier Lavalle & Rosella LaRoche [both of Quebec]

George Arth & Wilhemina Wernersbach [both from Germany]

John Burke & Ann (unknown) [both of Ireland]

(unknown) & Betsy Conners [both of Ireland]

Barney Dowd & Betsey (unknown) [both from Ireland]

Edward Ruston & Jane Brooks [both of England]

Thomas Richardson & Mary (unknown) [both of England]

John Ireland & wife (unknown) [both of England]

John Lenton & Mary Wilson [both of England]

Pliney Wicker & Chloe Morgan [MA]

Elizer Lusk & Rebecca (unknown) [NY]

Simon Whittier & Dorcas Kittredge [MA/VT]

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Peter DeLozier & Lucy Raymond [CT/NY]

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Joshua Eaton & Lucy Gould [CT/NY]

Solomon P. Treadwell & Fannie (unknown) [NY]

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Hiram Tenney & Esther or Sally (unknown) [NY]

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Thomas Targee & Ellen (unknown) [RI/NY]

David Smith & Betsy (unknown) [NY]

Heman Sears & Clarissa Debois [CT/NY]

Martin Dutcher & Cynthia Ann Feagles [NY]

Amanly Bird & Irene Pond Marsh [MA/NH]

~~*~~

I open to my ancestors, known and unknown. 

I open the front door. 

The air is cold and tinged with winter. 

I invite all who wish us no ill to enter and celebrate this night.

I ask my Ancestors to welcome in the spirits of the Recent Dead, of my beloved and missed Liz Seib. I ask them to watch over our friends Michael Maxwell Carter Davidson, Peter Blakeslee, and grumpy old Oliver. 

Who do you honor and wish peaceful passages to?

Leave offerings of food and liquor, of earthly things that smell strong and potent, of coffee, tobacco and candies. Leave them fresh, filtered water. Listen to the whisperings of the shadows. Feel peace fill your heart.

Let the candles burn low. Pay attention to your dreamings. The dead have things they wish to say. If you have any divination tools, ask the dead to speak through them. 

Lay the cards out. Draw a rune. Throw the bones.

Blessed Samhain. 

Happy Halloween.

George Durant and wife Louise Burnah, their daughter Elsie Durant (who I knew until I was 17), her husband Harold Riddle (who died nine months before I was born on their wedding anniversary). In the front are their children, my Aunt Donna, my Grandpa Dick, and my Uncle Sonny. All are deceased now.

Remembering Those Who Died of COVID-19 This Samhain

This is the night each year where I speak the names of the Recent Dead, which for my purposes is anyone who died since the last time I did my personal ritual. Sometimes I include people who I did not know had previously passed. I light candles and call to my Ancestors. I ask them to welcome the souls of those who have died in the last year. I ask them to show any stragglers the path to peace.

This year I felt called to be in service to a more specific intention and focus. I will still do my private ritual for the recent dead. But on All Hallow's Eve under the blessing of the Blue Moon I will do a ritual for those who have passed this last year as a result of COVID-19.

We are still in the thick of this virus. We do not yet have control of it and winter is coming. As of this morning there are 226,132 souls to bid passage and rest to, just from this virus alone.

Just before October 31st becomes November 1st I will light my candles on my ancestor altar. You don't have to use candles. Any source of intentional light will work. I will open my heart to my family lines of ancestors, both blood and chosen. And I will speak the number of the dead until I feel my intention connect with other world and I am filled with a sense of peace.

I invite any of you who feel called to join me. I will update the total number of dead after dusk: 228,185 souls.

Blessed Samhain co-walkers.

May those we love live on through us.

COVID-19 Deaths Month 4: June

Most of my friends are working from home. All of my friends in the entertainment world are facing uncertain futures. There are still areas of the country that are not enacting safety protocols. There are still people who think the virus is a hoax. A lot of my friends are in the kind of jobs that require them to work and interact with the public. I worry for them. 

There is grief this month, in the events and gatherings that are being necessarily canceled. Virtual versions are happening and, while they are better than nothing, it is also highlighting for me how much physical recharging I receive from them. This year I must find another way.

We entered Phase Two reopening in New York but places like indoor restaurants and malls and movie theatres and gyms and amusement parks, etc are still closed to the public. I have seen parks registering more use and traffic than usual. (It’s worth noting that most public restrooms are closed.) A lot of businesses that can be open now have to scale back on their employees because of the small size of the business so there’s no one to do extra work of cleaning out the bathroom after someone uses it. Right?

Due to my extended isolated recovery I may have been better prepared for all of this seclusion. But it still affects me. It may just take a little longer. So many Americans are already over the isolating and some others have not even started it. I worry this country is too large to come together to care for each other and halt the spread. I worry that the summer months will bring carelessness with it.

The global numbers are disheartening. The speed of this virus is unsettling. And if this is going to be a long haul, we need to take care of ourselves.

 

We are learning more everyday. The science will change as we learn new things about this particular virus. It's important that we stay open to that. The basic news still applies. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Six feet apart. Isolate.

I check the total dead each day. I have a list of numbers. Every night at midnight I light my ancestor altar. I call on those who weathered plagues and mysterious illnesses that swept through villages and cities. I call on my foremothers and fathers who lost loved ones, and those who lost their own lives in such times. I ask them to guide the dead. I ask them to watch over the living. I ask them to wrap the world in some measure of peace.

And then I chant the number of souls who died that day. I chant it seven times. I wish them ease. I wish them peace. I sometimes cry for their families, for the ones who died alone. Especially for the ones who died alone. Viruses don't care about human need. I try to remember that.

It's a simple ritual. It keeps me mindful of what is happening outside of my own isolation.

 

In June, we lost forty-seven thousand one-hundred and twenty-six Americans.

47,126

That's near the total population of the city of Binghamton, NY in 2010.

Since the rise of the pandemic 151,151 Americans have died of it.

 

 

Light a candle. Say a prayer. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Stay six feet apart. If you think you are ill isolate yourself for 72 hours. If you think you have been exposed quarantine yourself for 14 days before exposing anyone else to you. Video chat with your loved ones. We can do this. May we all come out the other side.

 

 

[Statistics gathered from this W.H.O. website. They have changed as the numbers have come in, so there is some wiggle room around the exact number.]

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A Contemplative Poem for the Month

 

Mindful

 

Everyday

I see or hear

something

that more or less

kills me

with delight,

that leaves me

like a needle

in the haystack

of light.

It was what I was born for —

to look, to listen,

to lose myself

inside this soft world —

to instruct myself

over and over

in joy,

and acclamation.

Nor am I talking

about the exceptional,

the fearful, the dreadful,

the very extravagant —

but of the ordinary,

the common, the very drab,

the daily presentations.

Oh, good scholar,

I say to myself,

how can you help

but grow wise

with such teachings

as these —

the untrimmable light

of the world,

the ocean’s shine,

the prayers that are made

out of grass?

~ Mary Oliver

 

COVID-19 Deaths Month 3: May

The virus is taking lives across all continents. At the end of this month we passed 100,000 dead Americans. I now believe we will need to sequester ourselves through the summer. I continue to pray that it does not get worse. In New York we entered Phase One of reopening, but it’s still tightly controlled. Those who can open have strict protocols they must follow. Still no gatherings.

None of our stores are open 24 hours anymore as they need the night to deep clean before they open again. Some stores have special senior hours in the morning so that they don’t have to worry about crowds.

There are talks of reopening more if the numbers stay good, at the same time that there are news and media reports of customers shooting people and getting angry and spitting on retail employees because they’re being asked to wear a mask. A lot of my friends work the kind of jobs that require them to be in public and interact with people. I am hearing stories. worry for them. 

We need to cultivate patience and compassion. They will help us help each other get through this.

I check the total dead each day. I have a list of numbers. Every night at midnight I light my ancestor altar. I call on those who weathered plagues and mysterious illnesses that swept through villages and cities. I call on my foremothers and fathers who lost loved ones, and those who lost their own lives in such times. I ask them to guide the dead. I ask them to watch over the living. I ask them to wrap the world in some measure of peace.

And I chant the number of souls who died that day. I chant it seven times. I wish them ease. I wish them peace. I sometimes cry for their families, for the ones who died alone. Especially for the ones who died alone. Viruses don't care about human need. I try to remember that.

It's a simple ritual. It keeps me mindful of what is happening outside of my own isolation.

 

In May, we lost forty-five thousand nine-hundred and thirty-eight Americans.

45,938

That's near the total population of Freeport, NY in 2010.

Since the rise of the pandemic 104,025 Americans have died of it.

 

Over 100,000 Americans have died of covid-19.

  

Light a candle. Say a prayer. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Stay six feet apart. If you think you are ill isolate yourself for 72 hours. If you think you have been exposed quarantine yourself for 14 days before exposing anyone else to you. Video chat with your loved ones. We can do this. May we all come out the other side.

 

[Statistics gathered from this W.H.O. website. They have changed as the numbers have come in, so there is some wiggle room around the exact number.]

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A Contemplative Poem for the Month

Small Kindnesses

I’ve been thinking about the way, when you walk

down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs

to let you by. Or how strangers still say “bless you”

when someone sneezes, a leftover

from the Bubonic plague. “Don’t die,” we are saying.

And sometimes, when you spill lemons

from your grocery bag, someone else will help you

pick them up. Mostly, we don’t want to harm each other.

We want to be handed our cup of coffee hot,

and to say thank you to the person handing it. To smile

at them and for them to smile back. For the waitress

to call us honey when she sets down the bowl of clam chowder,

and for the driver in the red pick-up truck to let us pass.

We have so little of each other, now. So far

from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange.

What if they are the true dwelling of the holy, these

fleeting temples we make together when we say, “Here,

have my seat,” “Go ahead—you first,” “I like your hat.”

 

~Danusha Laméris

COVID-19 Deaths Month 2: April

Many more areas of the world are under stay-at-home or lockdown orders. We in New York are on a state lockdown. If you have to shop, send one person out for shopping and only for the essentials. No gatherings. No in-person religious services. Even the Pope is asking people to stay home for Easter.

The virus is spreading rapidly in the big cities. The news from my friends in New York City is something of a nightmare. What we're hearing out of Italy is frightening.

I am reading all of the science as it comes out. I am also praying it does not get worse. We only know what we know until we learn it to be untrue. The science will change as we learn new things about this particular virus. It's important that we stay open to that.

I check the total dead each day. I have a list of numbers. Every night at midnight I light my ancestor altar. I call on those who weathered plagues and mysterious illnesses that swept through villages and cities. I call on my foremothers and fathers who lost loved ones, and those who lost their own lives in such times. I ask them to guide the dead. I ask them to watch over the living. I ask them to wrap the world in some measure of peace.

And I chant the number of souls who died that day. I chant it seven times. I wish them ease. I wish them peace. I sometimes cry for their families, for the ones who died alone. Especially for the ones who died alone. Viruses don't care about human need. I try to remember that.

It's a simple ritual. It keeps me mindful of what is happening outside of my own isolation. That isolation is necessary. This month's death toll multiplied. I can barely hold the number in my mouth.

 

In April, we lost fifty-five thousand, three hundred, and thirty-two Americans.

55,332

That's near the total population of White Plains, NY in 2010.

  

Light a candle. Say a prayer. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Stay six feet apart. If you think you are ill isolate yourself for 72 hours. If you think you have been exposed quarantine yourself for 14 days before exposing anyone else to you. Video chat with your loved ones. We can do this. May we all come out the other side.

 

[Statistics gathered from this W.H.O. website. They have changed as the numbers have come in, so there is some wiggle room around the exact number.]

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A Contemplative Poem for the Month

 

I Worried

 

I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers

flow in the right direction, will the earth turn

as it was taught, and if not how shall

I correct it?

 

Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,

can I do better?

 

Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows

can do it and I am, well,

hopeless.

 

Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,

am I going to get rheumatism,

lockjaw, dementia?

 

Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing.

And gave it up. And took my old body

and went out into the morning,

and sang.

 

~ Mary Oliver

COVID-19 Deaths Month 1: March

In New York we have been under stay-at-home orders since March 13. There is a virus spreading swiftly across the continents. The information we're getting now is likely to change as this is a new virus but some of the science is consistent.

Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Stay six feet apart. Limit social contact. If you feel sick isolate yourself for three days. If you think you may have been exposed quarantine for two weeks.

I pray it does not get worse.

It is strange to be under orders to stay-at-home but I understand the necessity of halting the spread. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry that the aisles of toilet paper and paper towels and antibacterial sprays and wipes are empty.

We had our first covid-19 death in Broome County on the Spring Equinox. It feels very real here now. I am welcoming in spring by watching our country’s death toll rise, praying for it to crest, wishing it to go down. My spirituality honors the dead and I cannot look away from the numbers of souls the virus is claiming.

How bad is this one going to be?

I check the total dead each day. I have a list of numbers. Every night at midnight I light my ancestor altar. I call on those who have weathered plagues and mysterious illnesses that swept through villages and cities. I call on my foremothers and fathers who lost loved ones, and those who lost their own lives in such times. I ask them to guide the dead. I ask them to watch over the living. I ask them to wrap the world in some measure of peace.

And then I chant the number of souls who died that day. I chant it seven times. I wish them ease. I wish them peace. I sometimes cry for their families, for the ones who died alone. Especially for the ones who died alone. Viruses don't care about human need. I try to remember that.

It's a simple ritual. It keeps me mindful of what is happening outside of my own isolation.

In March, two thousand, seven hundred, and fifty-five people died.

2,755

That's the total population of Roslyn, NY in 2010. 

Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Stay six feet apart. We can do this. May we all come out the other side.

 

[Statistics gathered from this W.H.O. website.]

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A Contemplative Poem for the Month

 

no one told the trees

 

gatherings of more than ten

have been canceled

so they put on all their best blooms

and celebrated shamelessly under the sky

 

reminding me that all I need

is sunlight, a gentle rain, and a

little bit of fresh air.

 

happy spring.

 

~ eila carrico