The Wheel ever turns

There's a line from a fabulous and canceled before it's time show that goes something like this: "The wheel's always turnin'... that only matters to thems that's on the rim."

Today that pairs in my mind with a line from a sweeping Broadway hit. "Death doesn't discriminate, it takes and it takes and it takes..."

My last grandparent, my Father's Father, passed away last week. This is a mixed moment for me - I'm sad, I'm sad that he's gone, partly because I miss him but more because I know the pain this is causing my Father and my Grandfather's widow. I have watched a parent cope with the reality that both their parents are dead now and it's not easy, it's not pretty, and it's not polite.

As horrible as it sounds, their death is the easy part. It's living on afterward that's hard. The list of names on the altar of our ancestors grows longer... it never gets easier to read.

The harvest festivals loom in front of us, and with Lughnasad just passed we look forward to Mabon. It's hard to believe that we're staring the last days of summer square in the eye but we are, and the air hangs heavy with the weight of dying light, the leaves whisper of their ending time and maybe with all this water we'll have a lovely and vibrant palate of colors this autumn.

Autumn is my favorite time of year. Last year was difficult, losing my first best friend last September means it's not even a year past yet, and I don't remember the colors the way I have in the past. I don't remember the days, or the way I celebrated any of the holy days. With the loss still so fresh, so raw in me and now this new sadness added, I have to remind myself to look up, to look at the colors, to see them and remember them. It hurts to do this, but I think I have to.

My wish for you, dear reader, is that whatever you're going through you remember to look at the colors and see the light in-between the dark places. The Wheel will turn, and we will move with it - but we are not on the rim or the road, we are safe inside.