Ancestor work, and honoring my ancestors, is an important part of both my craft and my life in general. (One would argue that those are one and the same, and you wouldn't be wrong, but for the sake of spelling it out...) Not a single day goes by that I don't think of those who have come before me, or passed during my time of knowing them, and the impact they've had on my life. Death has never been a stranger to me, for better or worse; my grandparents' generation was in their 80s before I turned 10, and I attended a lot of funerals as such. My father died when I was 15 after a (very) short fight with cancer; my childhood best friend grew up with cystic fibrosis so we always knew her time would be cut short. Not to mention my familiars and other beloved pets that already spend a much shorter time in this realm than they deserve...
So I decided, this year, I would spend each day of October remembering and honoring a different ancestor. Well, I meant to start this on the 1st but as life would have it, I've had no time and energy, as I've been working two jobs. So it goes! But I've kept different ancestors in my thoughts each day, and plan to catch up on the first few days that I didn't get to write during.
I thought about starting this off with my most recent loss, but really, I feel that the most appropriate start is remembrance of my father. After all, his influence on my life has been immeasurable and is the formative reason I'm on this path. My dad taught me to honor nature, encouraged my crystal collection, and told me stories of the Green Man. He also instilled in me a love of science fiction and fantasy (his collection of original Lord of the Rings volumes sits on my shelf, one now signed by Billy Boyd) and questioning the ways of this world. He taught me how to draw, and my own creative writing was inspired by watching him write his own stories. I am, undoubtedly, who I am today because of him.
He wasn't a flawless father or person (who is?); my sister, as the oldest and smartest, had a wildly different experience with him as he pushed her to be the top of her class. My brother, just 12 when he died, never speaks of his perception, but I assume it's vastly different from mine or my sister's. My parents fought sometimes, but I know that they loved each other. He worked overnight and a lot of overtime to provide us with much more than he had growing up, but that also meant that he wasn't around as much as he would have liked. (As an adult, I understand this way more.) But he was around enough, and I have a lot of fond memories of him.
I still remember the scratchiness of his beard as I sat on his lap at the dinner table. I remember helping him in the vegetable garden (although I didn't enjoy weeding so much, he loved growing things, which I've now taken after). I remember, every once in a while, if we were home sick from school but not too sick, he would bring us to Toys'R'Us for a special toy (I prized those toys more than any others). And I remember watching him, in the hospital one day, shave his beard and try to deal with his hair that was falling out from the chemotherapy... he looked at me and smiled and told me not to worry, it would grow back once he was better. But of course, that didn't happen.
As a child, he taught me a lot of Pagan stories and traditions, but it was a secret, being from a very Catholic family. (We were the black sheep of the family and never went to church, at least until I decided to become an altar server, but you could only take your heathenism so far, you know?) I didn't understand until much later... much, much later. He stopped talking to me about these things when I was around 8 or 10, when I started getting more involved with the church... but I think he knew that I'd eventually come around. He saw the magic in me that I took so long to acknowledge. And, in the meantime, I grew up thinking it was totally normal to know about the Green Man and what the triple moon symbol meant and to tread carefully with fairies. (A note about the Green Man though, my little childhood brain mixed him up with the Green Giant on the cans of peas, so... certain things didn't make sense for a while.) I learned that trees whispered to you if you listened, and the ocean could restore your energy, and crystals could calm or inspire you. All of this seemed second nature to me (or is it first nature?), and I'm grateful that he shared it with me. I know that he never shared any of this with my siblings, but he must've known this was my true path.
I don't like to think on his death. I mean, that's probably a given, but even beyond the shock and suddenness of it (we children were told he'd get better, even though my mom and his sisters knew otherwise). I hate to say that my last conversation with him was me getting mad about some petty teenager thing, and then refusing to visit the next couple days. I don't remember what it was about, it was so insignificant. I carried that regret with me for a long time. Some part of me still does. But, I also know that he understood I was a moody (read: undiagnosed bipolar) teenager, and I loved him even when we fought (which wasn't often). I'm sad that I didn't see him in his last days, but that's a lesson I carry forward regarding others, at least.
However, embracing witchcraft has helped me heal regarding that and many other things. I know now that my father has been guiding and protecting me since his death; I often felt his presence without knowing why, before I tuned into this part of me. I've been told by many people that I have strong protections surrounding me, even without my own doing (it's made work with other spirits difficult, but we're working on that). And, now that I've come to know and learn about ancestor work and the magic inside myself, we're able to communicate again. He (and my childhood best friend) visit me in my dreams to help guide me, and he sends me little signs here and there to let me know he's keeping an eye out.
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I still miss him every day, I still cry about him and what I lost, and that I lost him while I was still so young, but I'm grateful that I can connect with him in this way. So, of course, I had to start this project off with him.
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