Samhain, the last day. Speaking with my Father

The end of Samhain this year was Nov. 10th

All through Samhain this year, it was my goal to do a small ritual at my Father's graveside (niche--he was cremated and is in a "wall" in a veterans cemetery). Sadly this never came to be.

My Driver's License is expired and that is my own fault for letting it expire...I am as most of you know-disabled. I do not go out much. It was up to my son to get me there, because he is selfish, and disrespectful, and could care less about his grandparents (alive or dead) I never got there.

Last night I did my little ritual at my home, at my small alter with a picture of my Dad, a little tombstone and my white skull candle, which I had charged with the symbol and oil of Isis, along with a crystal. I also charged myself with the oil of Isis.

I had planned on writing a lovely incantation, a poem of respect, retrospect and celebration. or just some wise words. In the end I did what I did a few weeks back (which did cause some magick to happen) which was to just "speak" with Isis and Hecate, and my Dad.

I spoke of memories, good and bad, I spoke of missing him, and missing him when he lived in FL for so many years, while my children were young and growing. I spoke of times where I felt he had let me down, as well as times, he lifted me up. I asked for help and guidance, clearly spelling out the major, MAJOR problems, we, I am facing right now, and the not so major ones. I asked Hecate and Isis and my Dad to reach out to all ancestors that shared my blood, to come to me in thoughts and dreams with their wisdom, with their help. To show me signs. To love me, to lift me up, to show me I matter.
I had a bit of cake and drink and bit and sipped in their honor. I held my palms out to feel for them for many quiet moments. I did not feel them, but my cat wrapped around my legs, and I took that as a sign. I lowered my palms, and opened my eyes, and then stared into the candle flame and just meditated in quiet on the thought of help from beyond the veil, help from my ancestors, help from my Father.

I also meditated on the thought of Isis helping me, as she has in the past, and Hecate and her strong connection with the ancestors. After some time, my cat came and wrapped herself around my legs again, and at that very moment a strong wind gusted enough outside to be heard. I took both of these actions to be a sign to end my meditation, and dose the flame on my candle. When I lay my head down to sleep I will have a "talk" with my father God, The Great Spirit. The God of my Ancestors, who is also known as The Great Father, or Grandfather.

A special tribute to my Dad, this Samhain

During this time of the year, as a practitioner (newly) and believer in all the earthly and other-earthly Goddesses and Gods, I know the veil between the dead and the living is thinnest. It is my plan this year to go and spend some time at my father's niche, as close to Samhain (Halloween) as possible, sadly we are not allowed in after 6pm.

I have been speaking with Isis lately, as I was urged to with a most overwhelming sense of urgency starting a few weeks back. and for many of you I have been promising to post something very magical.  I will very soon.  I believe this magic happened at my and Isis' bequest.  Due to this magic.  I am urged to go and have a small ritual with my Dad. I plan on taking a vial of Isis oil that was given to me by a friend, a white candle and a an incantation I have yet to write. I plan on asking for some major guidance  on some major issues going on in my life and in my house.

I know my Father is watching over us all, in his quiet way. As often was his way in life, speaking only after listening and thinking. He was a man of few means  but many talents. A man of NO PRETENSE whatsoever, which is where I believe I get it from. I was not Daddy's little girl. That role fell to my sister, who always claimed to be exactly like him, and the extended family always said so too. In looks she does. That is where it ends. My father never, EVER held a grudge, and had no enemies. Everyone loved my father, EVERYONE.

He was a short man, and had to scheme is way into the navy for WWII. by putting cardboard inside his shoes and tacking extra leather to the bottoms, and then stood on tip toes. (on his 2nd attempt to enlist) They took him :) He honorably served in the North Atlantic on Patrol boats stationed out of New London CT. First the Sardonyx which was originally some "fat Cat's " yacht, and then some other ship.
My father was a printer by trade years later. Though, trained as a "pipe fitter" in the navy like most sailors on ships, if he wanted he could have apprenticed and then become a plumber.

My father grew up during the depression. Things were beyond tight, I can't even imagine. He told us some nights-dinner was a bowl of milk with saltine crackers.  His mother died when he was 5, and his father when he was 12. The oldest living sibling(Dad's sister Helen) took over raising everyone-8 in all, my Dad the baby. He wasn't perfect, he drank a lot of beer and shots  as seemed to be the norm of the men of his day. He also smoked which would eventually be the cause of his demise (COPD and heart issues).

However, he was a WONDERFUL family man and a very hard worker, working sometimes 3 jobs at a time--1 F/T and 2 P/Ts.  Sometimes I feel a bit guilty about this, because of medical bills.  I was born 7 years after my brother (9 after my sister) after the doctor told my mother she had adhesion's on and in her uterus and would not be able to conceive any more children.  I was born with asthma, it didn't show up til I was about 9 months old, but from then on it was a rough and rocky road. they almost lost me twice when I was 16 months old and again at 18 months. then the doctor decided to do allergy testing on my back.
Sure enough, I was allergic to soooo many things, things that were common in homes back then, and some still today(horse hair in mattresses and capon filled pillows and stuffed animals are not the norm today, but they were back then) They had to throw so much stuff out and start with new, they even had to get rids of the 2 cats they had (to this day I still hear about this from my sister)

When I was sick with my asthma or something else while young, my dad would arrive home from work with small gifts for me, not every day, but every time I was sick. Small gifts, but it didn't matter, they meant the world to me...new coloring book, or a new set of paper dolls, later...colorforms, then an outfit for my Barbie. Once I got my spirograph and super spirograph, he was always bringing me home paper from work.

However, in my grown-up years, he seemed distant to me and any problems I may have had, and I believe this was because my sister wore him out with hers. My parents moved to FL for 11 years, and on occasions when I called and asked to speak with him, it would be brief and he'd say, "I'm tired of being on the phone Susan, I just hung up with your sister." We only got down there once to visit, and they got up here twice. Overall, my children grew up not knowing them very well. It hurt, but it was their life, and they had to do what was right for them. I understood that, unlike my older sister who ran into their house one day after learning they sold their house and were moving to FL. and SCREAMED at them for "abandoning her"  This was a woman in her late 30's mind you.

At any rate. I have in my own way, held a small tiny grudge, for him not being there for me in my grown up years, while he was still alive. I know it was mostly because he was old and tired and had his hands full with my sister yakking at him. but sometimes, I really needed to get his counsel. He has been gone since 3/10/2005.  The time is right, to let him know these feelings, and to ask him to help guide whatever he can to aid me now.

I Plan to draw a pentacle with the oil of Isis on his name plate, light a candle, and speak with him, and then have a small incantation asking all the ancestors  and helpful spirits of the underworld to assist my Dad, in assisting me.
so Mote it be.