We All Come From The Goddess...

...And to Her we shall return.

I just got home from visiting Jim in the hospital. Yesterday he was week, but basically completely functional, able to sit up, talk and engage with all of us. He had some very pointed, and poignant words for me. First, he wanted me to stop using the picture of him from my handfasting (no, I won't link to it) as he felt he did not look good in it. But then he got very serious and leaned into me and said

Sometimes the Andy I read on his blog, I don't know who that Andy is. He isn't the Andy I love. You got to stop tearing yourself down. It does you no good, it does your wife no good and it's no good for the baby. That political stuff, the work you do, it's good. But do what you can and let go of it. Just let go. You don't need to carry that crap and that anger around with you. It's like voluntary simplicity in your mind, just let go of what you don't use. Keep doing what you do, but when you are done, let go.

Overnight things went to hell. He had trouble breathing, so they pumped him full of morphine and ativan(sp?). Today, Linda called from the hospital saying he was doing very, very badly and Laura and I rushed up there. It was shocking. Jim was essentially comatose, each breath rattling horribly in his lung. It was very bad. I cried and Laura cried. Linda had already done her initial crying.

What is happening is that the cancer is causing fluid to leak into his lung. There is nothing they can do for him except to make him as comfortable as they can.

The whole coven gathered, and as a surprise we were joined by Amy, a woman who briefly joined our coven at the beginning. Somehow it was right for her to be there. Amy watched Jim as they rest of us went to the chapel. We used Jim's rock altar, his quick and dirty portable one and using song, cast a circle, raised the energy and created an astral sleigh for him when he was ready for his journey.

We then went upstairs and each of us, all of us, Kalynne (she came on her own to see him, her mother did not have to make her, what remarkable maturity for an adolescent) and Amy also. We said goodbye, you don't have to stay on our account. You may go when you need to go.

When I left tonight, he was with his son, John. Jim was still alive, although weak. He would wake up briefly and then pass out. I do not think it will be long.

Before we broke up as a coven, we all took each other's hands in a circle. Jim, unconscious, was also a part of that circle. And we sang his favorite song:

We all come from the Goddess
and to Her we shall return
like a drop of rain
flowing to the ocean

We all come from the Goddess
and to Her we shall return
like a drop of rain
flowing to the ocean

hoof and horn hoof and horn
all that dies shall be reborn
corn and grain corn and grain
all that falls shall rise again

We all come from the Goddess
and to Her we shall return
like a drop of rain
flowing to the ocean

We all come from the Goddess
and to Her we shall return
like a drop of rain
flowing to the ocean

sage and crone sage and crone
wisdom's gift shall be our own
crone and sage crone and sage
wisdom is the gift of age

We all come from the Goddess
and to Her we shall return
like a drop of rain
flowing to the ocean

We all come from the Goddess
and to Her we shall return
like a drop of rain
flowing to the ocean

It was beautiful. I love you Jim, so very much. I'll probably see your body tomorrow in the hospital, maybe the day after as well. But I'll see you in Summerland/Otherworld and you can tell me how I have done at letting go.