A Very Merry Unbirthday to Me!
24 years ago today I initiated as priestess and witch. Good gravy. That makes me an elder or something in the Craft, doesn't it? Or at least an Olde Phart. ;)
I made myself a present today. From my Grandma Rosey's jet beads and some lovely amber I got at Laid Back, I crafted a necklace and a pair of earrings. I will wear them tonight. I've used a few of the beads to create other things, but was saving back a bunch of them for myself, not sure what I wanted to do with them, other than knowing that when the time was right, the idea would present itself.
The jet beads came from a necklace Grandma Rosey wore for every special occasion. They're faceted, so they sparkle a little, and handmade, which makes each of them just a tiny bit different from all the rest. I have had them in the little pink plastic box Mom kept them in after the string broke, sitting in my Craft case, waiting for the perfect moment.
Slipping that necklace on to check the balance, I nearly cried. I could sense the years of Grandma Rosey wearing it, the Sunday mornings dressing in her nicest dress and walking with Grandpa Carl to the house of one of their Friends for services; of the rare night when Grandpa Carl would have enough money for dinner at the cafe. I could smell the scent of the amber, warm from my hands, and the ancient scent of pine sap, of forests far away and long ago. I could hear my Mom, too, when she handed that little box to me, her voice filled with memories and longing, telling me that these beads were placed around her neck by Grandpa Carl when Grandma Rosey crossed the veil. That they weren't worth anything money-wise, but they were a part of our heritage, of the long line of women stretching out behind us, the healers and wise women who had passed on their knowledge to their daughters and grand daughters, and that I was to have them because I was the next in line.
Thank you, Mom, and Grandma Rosey, for this beautiful gift. And for the gifts you passed through our blood. Sometimes I don't want them, of course. But you understand, I know.
I made myself a present today. From my Grandma Rosey's jet beads and some lovely amber I got at Laid Back, I crafted a necklace and a pair of earrings. I will wear them tonight. I've used a few of the beads to create other things, but was saving back a bunch of them for myself, not sure what I wanted to do with them, other than knowing that when the time was right, the idea would present itself.
The jet beads came from a necklace Grandma Rosey wore for every special occasion. They're faceted, so they sparkle a little, and handmade, which makes each of them just a tiny bit different from all the rest. I have had them in the little pink plastic box Mom kept them in after the string broke, sitting in my Craft case, waiting for the perfect moment.
Slipping that necklace on to check the balance, I nearly cried. I could sense the years of Grandma Rosey wearing it, the Sunday mornings dressing in her nicest dress and walking with Grandpa Carl to the house of one of their Friends for services; of the rare night when Grandpa Carl would have enough money for dinner at the cafe. I could smell the scent of the amber, warm from my hands, and the ancient scent of pine sap, of forests far away and long ago. I could hear my Mom, too, when she handed that little box to me, her voice filled with memories and longing, telling me that these beads were placed around her neck by Grandpa Carl when Grandma Rosey crossed the veil. That they weren't worth anything money-wise, but they were a part of our heritage, of the long line of women stretching out behind us, the healers and wise women who had passed on their knowledge to their daughters and grand daughters, and that I was to have them because I was the next in line.
Thank you, Mom, and Grandma Rosey, for this beautiful gift. And for the gifts you passed through our blood. Sometimes I don't want them, of course. But you understand, I know.