It’s been an odd week. I just spent the first Saturday at home in over 2 months, between weddings and festival, my summer gets busy fast. I’ve also been working on an exercise for days now and I just can’t seem to complete it. Who knew my parents would be so much trouble?
October is always an emotional month for me. My father’s mother’s birthday fell on October 1st and I loved my grandma, especially since both my sister and I had our birthdays in October, so it made it extra special. Then my sister had her first baby in October too which has always been awesome. This is on top of my delight with cider and donuts and apple picking and bonfires and Hallow-freakin-ween. So this year it’s weird…
My 23 year old independent, talented and beautiful daughter was the goddess to me. From the moment she was born with the female bits instead of the other ones, every movement, every breath, every bellow of frustration seems to come from the center of perfect femininity. My darling Faerin.
I like muffins. I like selecting the recipes, adding ingredients, observing the alchemy that turns flour and fruit into cakes. They’re fun.
I’m kind of over them though. I know that my GoFundMe still sells the idea that I will spread muffins around the globe but I no longer see a lot of muffins in my future. I have made many muffins, gone to two ren fests over several days and learned many things. Mostly that people don’t really want muffins from a dead girl. No clue why…
My future looks more like a campaign to prevent suicide or promote the right to death with dignity than a bake sale. I need more time and ideas, but there is a powerful shift in the direction this energy is heading in. Less muffiny, for sure.
I want to engage teens at risk for suicide with the idea that their family and friends would have done anything to avoid the pain of survivorship. Maybe a video library of stories from surviving parents, family and friends? Something, someday…
Painting. I’ve been focused (to one degree or another) on painting for about a year and a half now.
Faerin and I were going to provide all the labor ourselves, but we only completed the front of the house before winter set in and we had planned to restart the project in June. By June I knew I needed professional help. I hired a co-worker’s family to complete the ladder work and they did a good job. But, as my neighbor pointed out today, they didn’t do as good a job as Faerin and I did.
For us, painting was a statement, an action, a meditation on the future and our place in it. Every stroke meant something.
This blog has been here a while now, looking for a reason to exist. I think I’ll use it for my new life.
What if I am the wise peacock? I am reasonably wise and I am on a journey to share my inner beauty with the world, what if that counts? I imagine it will if I decide that it will. I can set my intention for it.
If nothing else, this will make a good spot to process my journey from asexual, isolated, single mother of 3 (or 4, depending on the year) to goddess. I will coax the goddess from within my life and give her the respect and space to fully express herself.
I can and I will.
In the meantime, there’s lots to share and add and grow here. So let’s get to it!
It’s hard for me to read my previous post here. I really want to delete it, forget it before anyone sees how naive I was, how immature.
On May 19, 2015 my 23 year old daughter, Faerin Sinéad Cassidy, died. While her abusive boyfriend was on the scene and the only witness, the police are likely to chalk it up to suicide and let him go and destroy some other family.
It’s not the substance of my earlier rant that embarrasses me, it’s the lack of depth. While I considered the rights of the suicidal person, I neglected to consider the impact on family and friends who are caught by surprise when a loved one makes the decision to kill themselves in secret.
They don’t end their pain, they merely pass it on to us.
And it sucks. It sucks a lot.
But I’m surviving. With the help of my family and friends I am thriving. My daughter’s death shocked me back to life and I’m going to live it.