Love is Blue

My cousin Laura, daughter of my late, great, goddess-mother, Gita Tante, recently sent the extended family a remarkable photograph.  It was a picture of Gita Tante, who had come back from the great beyond to say hello to her daughter, and by extension, the many people she loved and called family and friends.  But only Laura would have recognized her mother at the time she miraculously captured the picture, because Gita Tante did not look the way she did when she lived on this earthly plane.  Gita Tante had taken the form of a vivid, blue bird, an Indigo Bunting to be exact, that was perched on a branch overlooking her own shrine.  Laura had erected the shrine in the expansive garden Gita had lovingly created on the property of their country home.  When Laura emailed the pictures of this extraordinary sight, it was accompanied with a note that told of a time when she had asked her mother, "If you were a bird, what bird would you be?"  Gita Tante's reply was, "The bluebird of happiness."
I'm pretty sure Gita Tante didn't just mean that she'd like to come back as a happy bird, because she most certainly knew how to get joy out of life, but that she wanted to be a harbinger of happiness for anyone who encountered her.  I also suspect that Gita Tante was thinking specifically of Laura at the time.  Of course the love between mothers and their children is profound, perhaps the deepest connection a person can have, and Laura and Gita Tante had it in spades.  But my belief that Gita Tante meant she wanted to make sure her daughter was happy is derived from another story in their lives, which happened several years earlier.
A number of years ago Laura suffered a debilitating depression.  Although Gita was no stranger to dealing with depression in close family members, Laura's illness struck her harder than most, and Gita's concern for her daughter's despair was felt by the entire family.  Like many members of the family, I sent out my best thoughts and prayers to both my aunt and cousin, which included a silly note to help lighten a grave situation.  It was was a hilarious cartoon from the twisted, creative genius of Gary Larson of Far Side fame.  I first came upon it many years before when I, too, was in a very dark place.
At the time I was completely bereft of any sense of humour, not unusual for a depressed state of mind, but I clearly remember that this particular cartoon made me laugh out loud for the first time in many weeks.  Indeed, I still chuckle whenever I think of it.  Hoping that it would evoke the same reaction in both Laura and Gita Tante, I sent it to them.  Gita later told me how much the cartoon had amused her, and deeply appreciated that I had sent it along to Laura.  So, copyright laws notwithstanding, I'm including it here.  (I'm assuming my loyal legion of followers won't rat me out.)

Time passed, Laura recovered, and I didn't give that small exchange another thought until recently, when Laura emailed the photograph of a rare and stunning bird, sitting serenely above the shrine dedicated to my dear aunt, who was a rare and beautiful soul. 
There is communal headstone in a lovely, secluded, hilltop   graveyard marking the lives of six members of our family, including Gita Tante and her sister, my mother.  The epitaph reads Love Is Greater Than Death.  Gita Tante had chosen that epitaph herself, and the arrival of that bluer-than-blue bird reaffirmed the profound truth of those words.  Laura got the message loud and clear; her mother loves her still, and always will.  Like all messages from beyond, it had a ripple effect, reaching outward to touch numerous other people, including Gita's two sons, Edmund and Andris.  Thanks to Laura's timely photograph, one of the other people Gita's message reached was me, her goddess-daughter.
It was Gita Tante, and not me, who coined the terms goddess-mother and goddess-daughter.  She knew just how much those monikers would mean to me.  Gita Tante was also well aware of my obsession with signs, messages, and messengers from other worlds, which is why I can't help thinking that her bluebird of happiness stint, rich with meaning for Laura, was partly a wink in my direction, too.

I'm always searching for stories that fit the mandate of my little web, and this happy tale is a tailor-made fit.  In fact, Gita Tante was my most devoted follower on this web of mine when she lived in this realm.  By manifesting as a blue bird (not to be confused with a bluebird), she has not only validated my beliefs, but given me the gift of a magical story to remember, and write.  My wise and wonderful aunt has proved to me, from beyond the grave, that magic and miracles surround us everyday, if only we have eyes to see.
Thank you, Gita Tante, for the gift of joy you continue to share with your dear ones.  And thanks for showing me once again that the Goddess is alive and magic is afoot.
- G.P.

*    photographs and floral arrangements by cousin Laura
**  flowers grown by Gita Tante

Consider the Lilies

This morning I went for a walk in the park with my friend Margaret.  It lifted my spirits.  I felt brown when I met her.  I didn't feel that way when we parted.  Then I took pictures of happy flowers in the garden that fairly shouted at me to lighten up.  As you can see, they weren't brown.  So, in remembrance of this slow, moody, wistful, summer's day, I'm sharing some of the cheer and light that greet me in my own backyard.

Namaste.
- G.P.

July 1st

I've come back to my little web today because I want my most recent blurb to be a happy one.  (The one before this is about a bad habit of mine.)  And since I don't have anything really profound or newsworthy to say (so what else is new?) I'll just wish everyone who passes this way a Happy Day!
As I write this it also happens to be the national holiday of my home and native land.  But even if you're not celebrating a national holiday, celebrate life.  Love your family, love your friends - human and other - and love this beautiful Earth that still sustains us, despite all our efforts to thwart her.
I'm posting some pictures of my mini- holiday this past weekend, spent at a lakeside cottage with a couple of friends.  I'm glad the national holiday happens in the summer, because swimming, canoeing, and drinking beer are just some of the things denizens of this land do to celebrate it, and I always take great pleasure in joining them.  I certainly wouldn't be nearly so enthusiastic if the holiday happened in winter.
I'm also going to leave a couple more hints about just exactly what country it is I call home.  Of course it's no surprise to my legion of followers, because most of them hail from these here parts as well, but I enjoy the delusion of appearing cosmopolitan, in the hopes that my little web has broader appeal.  Or maybe I'm just being modest and self-effacing in not broadcasting whatever patriotism I may possess, which is apparently a trait of this country's citizenry.  I hope that's true, because I consider that to be a good point.  Or maybe it's just a reaction to our huge neighbours to the south, who are really in-your-face with their displays of patriotism.

But please, no matter where you're from, or when you happen to read this little bit of nothing, have a great day, eh?
- G.P.