Posts in the “R.I.P.” category
HAZY WINDOWS
by angeliska on August 9, 2022
When you are a wanderer in the infinite terrain of loss, you learn strange ways to cope, and to heal. Some people become experts at avoiding and deflecting all the painful memories, or toughen up into stoic, armored warriors – (…)
GRIEVING GRRIZELDA
by angeliska on April 15, 2022
Many years ago, I asked my dog, “So Grrizelda, what’s it all about?” She got excited and wiggled her butt and gave me one paw to shake and then the other, confirming my belief that the secret of life is, (…)
THE AUGUST RITUAL
by angeliska on August 9, 2021
Every year when August rolls around, my body reminds me how full of pain this month has been for me – by keeping me awake until the wee hours, joints aching, mind buzzing with anxiety, and my nervous system cycling (…)
Lissa and the Lion
by angeliska on October 10, 2017
I met Lissa (pronounced like “Lisa”) Driscoll nearly twenty years ago, when I first moved to New Orleans. I was only 19 or 20 then, and had just started working at an occult shop in the French Quarter notorious for (…)
38 on August the 8th
by angeliska on August 8, 2017
Thirty-one years ago today, my mother died at the age of thirty-eight – the same age I am now. I didn’t actually put that together until a few months ago, and when I realized it, I feel a numb shock (…)
30 YEARS – SEIZURES
by angeliska on August 8, 2016
Today marks thirty years since the day my mother died. Nearly half a lifetime, it seems – and so much of my life that I’ve had to live without her. I have spent most of those years hiding. Body hunched (…)
888 – HONEY BABE, I’M BOUND TO RIDE – DON’T YOU WANNA GO?
by angeliska on August 8, 2015
Last year on this day, the anniversary of my mother’s death, I didn’t feel like writing. I just felt like living. That’s what I did, and it felt right. Every year is a little different. Stands to reason, with the (…)
Fallings, Turnings – AUTUMNAL EQUINOX
by angeliska on September 22, 2014
Here we are at the turnings again. It seems that the turnings are the main moments (or the only ones, lately anyway) that I feel inspired or most dedicated to writing about. This is when I write most, when the (…)
One Hundred Years
by angeliska on January 19, 2014
Today, my beloved grandfather would have been 100 years old, were he still alive today. I had hoped that he would make it there in life – he was so close! Only two years to go! But he was ready, (…)
The Color of Pomegranates
by angeliska on December 20, 2013
This recent autumn was the best year for pomegranates. The tree planted by the pond in the garden seven or so years ago has been flourishing in this strange weather we’ve been having. Oft times, at harvest, the fruits would (…)
