Listen + then read on…
*My Aunt Cheryl is sister number 3, not 4, as mentioned in the video!
I’m sitting here at Sky Harbor International Airport in Phoenix . . . still. De-planed due to thunder storms + inclement weather over San Francisco International Airport.
I’m thinking about the day, the connections, the history of the Bounds’ Women (six sisters) and the generations of women that came before them, the honoring of my Aunt by her children and wishing I had read the prayer I brought to her service.
In March 2022, I read this prayer/poem at my sister-in-law’s funeral. She was 30 years old. In the past two years, we’ve said goodbye to four women from the maternal side of our family and an Uncle-by-marriage. Death feels greedy right now.
A blanket of grief has covered our family these past couple of years. This prayer is for those who remain, a permission slip, of sorts, to take as much time as one needs to grieve.
Honoring Grief by Pixie Lighthorse
Thank you for this blessed day: this blessing of life on us, heavy with awareness of what has been surrendered.
Inspire us to grieve enough. Remind us not to strive for completing the process for the sake of being done. Help us with our tendency to avoid. Establish in us a belief that we get to wear the face of our pain, not a brave mask that puts others at ease. Help us to speak and honor our pain with the understanding that we do not suffer our losses alone. Ease our minds when those who cannot relate to our suffering don’t know what to say or do for us. Hold our rage and abandonment while we come to discover what is at the bottom of our deep sorrow. Empathize to us that someone, somewhere understands, despite our contrary thoughts.
It is a comfort for our hearts to be able to access the spirit of what is no longer. Unlock the passageways so we may commune with those we remember. Allow the souls who have been reclaimed to visit in our dreams and visions. Help us preserve the love we came to count on. Teach us to honor our relatives who have taken on another form with purpose and reverence. Instruct us in the art of divine communication.
Remind us that everything that dies will be reborn in some way, even if we do not possess the words to describe this process. While we feel our feelings, help us trust in your mystery. Groom us to take the long road if we need to.
Help us know that tears are cleansing and our grief sacred - that we can take all the time we need to release and cleanse our wound of loss. Point it out, each time we forget that we are equipped with the perfect tools for this process. Give us the energy and strength to weep.
We’re grateful for the visceral experience of flow when your healing rains wash over us, allowing our emotional bodies to be bathed in your waters. Carry our honest pain downstream to join the infinite tributaries of sorrow and mourning in the salty womb of the Ocean. Let us mingle our tears with others in a gesture of sharing. Show us how to honor our collective human experience.
Remind us that we do not have to fill the empty places with anything at all at this time.
Guide us gently through the anxiety of vacancy where love once held us.
Grateful to be home in my own bed, next to my fella.
Grateful for family ties that bind.
Grateful for the Bounds’ sisters.
Grateful for my siblings + cousins.
Grateful for memories + storytelling (and humor!).
Grateful for the ability to be a cycle-breaker.
Grateful for summers spent in South Phoenix.
Grateful to be Donna’s Girl, Mary Ella’s Granddaughter + Bertha’s Great Granddaughter.
Grateful to know the women I came from.