Our Lady Turns Her Head: A Mystic’s Journal Entries: November 24-30, 2006

Friday, November 24
2:30 a.m.

Went through old dusty photo albums tonight, with the captions written in silver pen in my mother’s artistic hand. Ten frames full of photographs for the Memorial Service on Sunday. We leave tomorrow, at dawn - well, in a few hours.

Leaned them all up against the couch, frozen fragments of a life well-lived, an instant here, an instant there. The whole story cannot be told in ten frames of photographs. But there it was, my mother’s life leaning up against the couch: kindergarten in France, with a big bow in her hair; photos of her and Ed at Windgarth and in Ithaca ... A long and varied life starting in black and white, up to the present in color... Her life like a wave in the sea, a gust of wind ...

Monday, November 27

A pale sunrise; then a brilliant globe of orange sun; hanging mists .... We traveled the same roads, but this time the trees bare & fields covered with frost. We passed dried stalks, flowerheads now colourless and stiff; the forests a pencil drawing instead of colourful gouache or oils, the fields pale and uniform. Mists everywhere; only the firs lending colour to the dawn and early morning. Glints and glimmers of light on the ebbing frost as the sun grew stronger and the day warmed; patches of greens emerging as the miles shot by, as time passed; sun now sparkling on the brooks and frozen dew ... the thawed moss of the forests a welcome contrast to the whites and greys ...

In the small towns the beginning of Christmas decorations, strung from lamp posts or telephone poles.

My stepfamily gathered at the house. Love everywhere: twenty or so people, from a frail father/grandfather/great grandfather in his mid-eighties down to a ruddy and chubby six month old child in her mother’s arms. Twenty or so grieving people compressed, clumped and huddled together in the Chapel, at the cemetery. My friend Rea came, the only person among those mourning hundreds representing my childhood. A day filled with Love and grief.

Some lasting images: Gina holding little Elise at the cemetery; Gail and Jill walking before me into the Chapel; Ed saying good bye as we left for Ithaca: a frail, thin figure on the other side of the glass waving, smiling bravely, gently, shyly. By himself ... Alone in the doorway...

The forests now without leaves, new gorges and waterfalls falling through the forests emerged; later, pale mountains. The forests quietly resting, ready for winter, stripped ... remnants of other seasons filling the forest floors.

Near home, thousands of geese traveling south, like moving banners above the hills. Eventually they formed one long line ... Geese overhead in V formation, their wings all beating together, synchronized ...

Tuesday, November 28

As I was walking today, I prayed for my mother. After some minutes she appeared in my mind’s eye, and she was completely turned to Light - like a pillar of bright, self-effulgent Light. And I knew that she had reached a new level of sanctity. I also was told that she has seen my earthly father and that it was a good meeting, one full of Light and understanding.

Thursday, November 30

Cancelled mediation and class last night. Started to go into shock in the doctor’s office Wednesday afternoon, from the allergy shots they had just given me: then four or five shots of adrenalin, prednisone, antihistamine, glucose and oxygen - the usual ... Was there for hours, in fact they had to stay after hours to tend me. JF came to keep me company. We did the NY Times Sunday crossword puzzle as they gave me shots and did their vital signs checks and procedures; at one point the nurse gave me the smallest paper cup I’ve ever seen, filled with water, to take some pills. My hands were shaking so violently from the adrenalin shots that I spilled all the water out in a split second .... I laughed and laughed and the nurses and doctors looked very surprised ... I suppose most people in my plight are not as able to retrieve a sense of humor.

I am now taking prednisone to try to check the allergic reaction, and could still have to go to the ER at any moment. I told M. the doctors had told me that if my condition worsened I should go to the ER: "Of course, if I am asleep, how will I know things are worse? Just pray I go to Heaven." JF stayed with me today, for hours. We almost finished the crossword puzzle; she took a very long nap.

They hadn’t even doubled my dose this week. I am beginning to wonder if I will make it through these shots. If I do not, I will not be able to go safely outside unless it is less than 50 degrees on a non-sunny day, raining - or at night. I must bite the bullet ... That sort of life would be a terrible imprisonment. Life without the gardens, the spring and fall, the fields, without Windgarth - unimaginable ...

I prayed to the small statue of Our Lady on our fireplace mantle before my appointment yesterday and asked, as I always do, that I would not react badly to the shots. When Our Lady is able to grant my request She looks me in the eye and gives me the most radiant smile. Yesterday morning - She refused to look at me. If I moved my position, She turned Her head away in another direction ... I knew that I might be in for a bit of trouble. But last night when I prayed to Her I was filled with radiant Light, streaming downwards from Her image in my mind towards my toes. And today I do feel much better, even though the allergic reaction has continued to spread slightly. In any case, I have not ended up in the ER today.

Leaves - I must cover the roses.