And that pretty much sums it all up. I am glad to see someone taking a stand against Burke. Burke is a power hungry little man who wields the Catholic faith like a club. How come he did not, and the church, use the club to go after priests and their wrong doing? (And anyone who follows the news knows what I am talking about) Oh wait, I got an idea as to why... the church is infallible and can do no wrong. Therefore the priests, a part of the church, did no wrong! This makes so much more sense to me know!! I have finally figured it all out.
Seriously, Burke, and the church, need to get their heads straight and get with the program. I honestly believe the church needs to clean house and straighten some of their dogma before they go after members of the congregation and a priest for taking a stand.
Alright, this is part 2 of our wedding day. This going to a brief synopsis of how the day went and why everyone says it was one of the best weddings they ever attended. The best compliment we got: It did not feel like a wedding, it felt friends coming together to celebrate. And that is what we wanted, a celebration.
Our wedding invitation was different. We were looking on-line for ideas and we came across a perfect one. The invite was my daughter inviting everyone to the wedding. It asked you to join her as her new family is created. It got a lot of tears from my bride's friends and also from some family members.
For starters, we had the flower girl bring the ring bearer down the aisle in a wagon. The ring bearer was not old enough to make the long walk by himself and we found that the best way to get him down the aisle. Also, my lady love's step-dad walked her down the aisle dressed in his uniform from his VFW post. He is very proud of his service to his country and the fact he is in the color guard. So it seemed fitting for him to be in his uniform.
I already mentioned the kilt and the dress. Now, the music was also different. She did not come down the aisle to the traditional wedding march. I found a great Gaelic song on-line and I was able to get a copy of it. It fit the way I was dressed who we are as a couple. When we left the church, it was to Love Song by the Cure. When we entered our reception it was The Love Cats by the Cure. Our first dance was Look At You Girl by Chris Ledoux. I sung it softly to her as we danced. My poor lady love was crying as I sang to her. She said it was because was so happy and I say it was because of my singing. LOL I also had a daddy/daughter dance with my little girl. She connects Tough Little Boys by Gary Allen to her and I so that was the song we danced to at the reception.
We did not have a traditional wedding cake. She wanted a chocolate fountain and that is what we used for the main dessert. I had a couple of my uncles giving us trouble about the chocolate fountain being a fondue pot. So, we got a fondue pot and I made a sign with the old guys from the muppet show on it. and the names of my 2 uncles. We put it on a table and specifically reserved the table for them. They took the joke one step further and each one had a chocolate dipped strawberry, from their fondue pot, in their hands when we walked the room when we arrived!
We did have a cake to cut, but it was a groom's cake. And the cake was done up to look like Tony Stewart's NASCAR. Those who did not want the chocolate fountain got a chance to have a piece of the cake. And I know I saw a few folks dip their cake into the fountain!
The rest of the reception was pretty much in line with what you would see at a reception. However, we did have one more surprise and this idea was given to us by our caterer. After the garter toss and the bouquet toss we requested all the single people (men & women) to come back out on the floor. When they did, I proceeded to sit down and my lady love took a garter off of my leg and tossed it out to crowd! That got a ton of laughs from everyone that was in attendance.
To this day, I amazed as to what we pulled off and were able to get done. This wedding was paid for by her and I except a few things that family and friends helped out with and for that I am forever thankful. I was asked, recently, if there was anything I would change about my wedding day. My answer is always the same: I would have loved to have my mom and her mom see this day. But other than that, there is nothing I would change. I think we created the most memorable day for us.
Well, I posted up 2 pictures from our wedding day and they are pending approval. Just to set the stage a little, I was in a full dress kilt and she was in a traditional wedding dress. There only a few select people that were privy to what I was wearing (grandma, grandpa, dad, best man, bride, daughter and preacher) for everyone else it was a secret.
Needless to say when I stepped out, the place got silent. Everyone was very surprised that I would dress in a full kilt. Trust me, it was worth wearing the kilt! I never had so many compliments in regards to it. I was told I had the legs for it from one of my cousins! LOL
Ok, with that being said, I will go on with my post. This is going to be a 2 part post on my end of things. This post will be the poem my lady love (hocke1) mentioned in my previous blog. This post will also have what I read aloud to her in church. My next blog will explain a little about the wedding day and how we made it our day. Trust me, we still get compliments (2 1/2 years later) on how great our wedding was to attend.
The poem in our wedding program that I wrote for her:
I am amazed
Amazed at my soul mate
That I have found
I have wandered lost
Throughout the world
Searching for you
I have found you
And now I stand here
With you and you alone
Professing my love
And my devotion
To you and you alone
Friend of my soul
My soul friend
My partner for life
And this is what I read to her in the church:
Gorgeous, family and friends:
As I stand here before everyone, I amazed at what I have found. I have found my life partner, my woobie, my soul mate, the person who completes me. As I have said, you are the yin to my yang. Over the 2 short years I have known you, I feel like I have known you a lifetime. We know what each other is feeling, wanting, desiring. And if that is not love, much less a soul mate, than I do not know what is.
We have had many adventures (and some misadventures) over these couple of years. And I am eagerly awaiting what lays ahead for us. Yes, I know there will be some rough times ahead. However, all of our good times should far outweigh those rough times. I am wanting to take your hand and walk the path of life with you. I want to explore what the world has to offer with you. As the song goes: you and me, strange as angels. We may be strange but we do make a wonderful pair.
And as our wedding bands say: my soul friend, friend of my soul. You are both of these to me. And remember these few words too: Whenever I'm alone with you You make me feel like I am whole again. I have not felt whole in a really long time. I had been lost in the darkness and I was strung out, burned out and left out in the cold. Then you came into my life, when I was looking for a friend. And what I found was so much more. And I am thankful for that every day that I wake up in the morning and see you next to me.
One last thing to remember gorgeous, I love you like a fat kid loves cake.
I know it has been a while since I have posted on here. But there has not been too much on my mind. However, one little thing is tickling at the back of my mind. My grandma's birthday is approaching us. She passed away in September of 2007 and it got me to thinking how much the family is missing her. With that being said, I am posting up what I read at her funeral.
There is a couple of things that should be noted before this post is read. I was the only grandchild to say anything at her funeral, I was the only grandchild to be a pallbearer and my one uncle (whom I am not on the best of terms) asked me to do a reading at the church. Again, the only grandchild to do any of this at the funeral. I was very touched to have this privilege and I would do it again.
Miss you grandma and mom.
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Each individual is a single thread in the tapestry we call a family. When one of the main threads are pulled, there is a tendency for people to say the tapestry is ruined. I have found out that even though that the thread is pulled, sometimes the tapestry grows even stronger.
Almost 3 years ago, we lost one of the main threads in my immediate family. But we have pulled together and our tapestry has grown stronger. Though we may have a few frays, our family has gotten closer and stronger than what it was before we lost my mom.
The same can be said with the passing of grandma, we lost a major thread in our tapestry. However, this loss does not have to cause the tapestry to fall apart. Look upon us and see how we have persevered throughout our ordeal. Use this as an opportunity to get closer with one another. Share your grief, your sorrow and your happiness. Remember her for who she was and what she meant to each of us.
There will be times in which you will do something that will bring back memories of her. Savior those little moments and enjoy them. You will be surprised by what you will remember as the months pass. Memories that in which you thought were long lost will sneak upon you like the fog in the night. These memories may cause you to shed tears of sorrow or a smile of delight. Either way, enjoy those little moments because they will always bring her back to you.
And as the months fade into years, you will find the pain in your heart slowly eases. Though nothing can ever replace grandma, take solace in the fact a little of her will always be with each of us. And each of us have a special memory of her. I say take that memory and hold it close to your heart. It will help heal the hole that she left behind with her passing. I know it to be true because I have take a memory of my mom and I hold it close to my heart each day. Though the wound, from the passing of my mom, has not fully healed, that memory provides the comfort that is needed.
Blessed be to all my friends during this time of year.
Author unknown
We had a nice, serene kind of Solstice Circle. No jingling bells or faked-out Christmas Carols. Soon after the last coven member left, Jack was ready to pack it in.
"The baby's nestled all snug in her bed," he said with a yawn, "I think I'll go settle in for a long winter's nap."
I heaved a martyred sigh. He grinned unrepentantly, kissed me, called me a grinch, and went to bed. I stayed up and puttered around the house, trying to unwind. I sifted through the day's mail, ditched the flyers urging us to purchase all the Seasonal Joy we could afford or charge.
I opened the card from his parents. Another sermonette: a manger scene and a bible verse, with a handwritten note expressing his mother's fervent hope that God's love and Christmas spirit would fill our hearts in this blessed season. She means well, really. I amused myself by picking out every Pagan element I could find in the card.
When the mail had been sorted, I got up and started turning our ritual room back into a living room. As if the greeting card had carried a virus, I found myself humming Christmas carols. I turned on the classic rock station, but they were playing that Lennon-Ono Christmas song. I switched stations. The weatherman assured me that there was only a twenty percent chance of snow. Then, by Loki, the deejay let Bruce Springsteen insult my ears crooning, "yah better watch out, yah better not pout." I tried the Oldies station. Elvis lives, and he does Christmas songs. Okay, fine. We'll do classical ~ no, we won't. They're playing Handel's Messiah. Maybe the community radio station would have something secular humanist.
"Ahora, escucharemos a Jose Feliciano canta `Feliz Navidad'."
I was getting annoyed. The radio doesn't usually get this saturated with holiday mush until the twenty-fourth.
"This is too weird." I said to the radio, "Cut that crap out."
The country station had some Kenny Rogers Christmas tune, the first rock station had gone from John and Yoko's Christmas song to Simon and Garfunkel's "Silent Night," and the other rock station still had Springsteen reliving his childhood. "--I'm tellin' you why. Santa Claus is comin' to town!" he bellowed.
I was about to pick out a nice secular CD when there was a knock at the door.
Now, it could have been a coven member who'd forgotten something. It could have been someone with car trouble. It could have been any number of things, but it certainly couldn't have been a stout guy in a red suit--snowy beard, rosy cheeks, and all--backed by eight reindeer and a sleigh. I blinked, wondered crazily where Rudolph was, and blinked again. There were nine reindeer. Our twenty-percent chance of snow had frosted the dead grass and was continuing to float down in fat flakes.
"Hi, Frannie." he said warmly, "I've missed you."
"I'm stone cold sober, and you don't exist."
He looked at me with a mixture of sorrow and compassion and sighed heavily.
"That's why I miss you, Frannie. Can I come in? We need to talk."
I couldn't quite bring myself to slam the door on this vision, hallucination, or whatever. So I let him in, because that made more sense then letting all the cold air in while I argued with someone who wasn't there.
As he stepped in, a thought crossed my mind about various entities needing an invitation to get in houses. He flashed me a smile that would melt the polar caps.
"Don't you miss Christmas, Frannie?"
"No." I said flatly, "Apparently you don't see me when I'm sleeping and waking these days. I haven't been Christian for years."
"Oh, now don't let that stop you. We both know this holiday's older than that. Yule trees and Saturnalia and here-comes-the- sun, doodoodendoodoo. "
I raised an eyebrow at the Beatles reference, then gave him my standard sermonette on the appropriation and adulteration that made Christmas no longer a Pagan holiday. I had done my homework. I listed centuries, I named names--St.Nicholas among them.
"In the twentieth century version," I assured him, "Christmas is two parts crass commercialism mixed with one part blind faith in a religion I rejected years ago." I gave him my best lines, the ones that had convinced my coven to abstain from Christmassy cliches. My hallucination sat in Jack's favorite chair, nodding patiently at me.
"And you," I added nastily,"come here talking about ancient customs when you--in your current form--were invented in the nineteenth century by, um...Clement C. Moore."
He laughed, a rolling, belly-deep chuckle unlike any department- store Santa I'd ever heard.
"Of course I change my form now and then to suit fashion. Don't you? And does that stop you from being yourself?" He said, and asked me if I remembered Real Magic, by Isaac Bonewits.
I gaped at him for a moment, then caught myself. "This is like `Labyrinth', right? I'm having a dream that pretends to be real, but is only made from pieces of things in my memory. You don't look a thing like David Bowie."
"Bonewits has this Switchboard Theory." Santa went on amiably, "The energy you put into your beliefs influences the real existence of the archetypal-- oh, let me put it simpler: "in the beginning, Man created God'. Ian Anderson."
He lit a long-stemmed pipe. The tobacco had a mild and somehow Christmassy smell, and every puff sent up a wreath of smoke. "I'm afraid it's a bit more complicated than Bonewits tells it, but that's close enough for mortals. Are you with me so far?"
"Oh, sure." I lied as unconvincingly as possible.
Santa sighed heavily. "When's the last time you left out hot tea and cookies for me?"
"When I figured out my parents were eating them."
"Frannie, Frannie. Remember pinda balls, from Hinduism?"
"Rice balls left as offerings for ancestors and gods."
"Do Hindus really believe that the ancestors and gods eat pinda balls?"
"All right, y'got me there. They say that spirits consume the spiritual essence, then mortals can have what's left."
"Mm-hm." Santa smiled at me compassionately through his snowy beard.
I rallied quickly. "What about the toys? I know for a fact they aren't made by you and a bunch of non-union Elves."
"Oh, that's quite true. Manufacturing physical objects out of magical energy is terribly expensive and breaks several laws of Nature--She only allows us to do that on special occasions. It certainly couldn't be done globally and annually. Now, the missus and the Elves and I really do have a shop at the North Pole. Not the sort of thing the Air Force would ever find. What we make up there is what makes this time a holiday, no matter what religion it's called."
"Don't tell me," I said, rolling my eyes, "you make the sun come back."
"Oh my, no. The solar cycle stuff, the Reason For The Season, isn't my department. My part is making it a holiday. We make a mild, non-addictive psychedelic thing called Christmas spirit. Try some."
He dipped his fingers in a pocket and tossed red-gold-green- silver glitter at me. I could have ducked. I don't know why I didn't. It smelled like snow and pine needles, and cedar chips in the fireplace. It smelled like fruitcake, cornbread savory herbal stuffing, like that foamy white stuff you spray on the window with stencils. It felt like a crisp wind, Grandma's hugs, fuzzy new mittens, pine needles scrunching under my slippers. I saw twinkle lights, mistletoe in the doorway, smiling faces from years gone by. Several Christmas carols played almost simultaneously in a kind of medley. I fought my way back to my living room and glared sternly at the hallucination in Jack's chair.
"Fun stuff. Does the DEA know about this?"
"Oh, Frannie. Why are you such a hard case? I told you it's non-addictive and has no harmful side effects. Would Santa Claus lie to you?"
I opened my mouth and closed it again. We looked at each other a while.
"Can I have some more of that glittery stuff?"
"Mmmm. I think you need something stronger. Try a sugarplum."
I tasted rum ball. Peppermint. Those hard candies with the picture all the way through. Mama's favorite fudge. A chorus line of Christmas candies danced through my mouth. The Swedish Angel Chimes, run on candle power, say tingatingatingating . Mama, with a funny smile, promised to give Santa my letter. Greeting cards taped on the refrigerator door. We rode through the tree farm on a straw-filled trailer pulled by a red and green tractor, looking for a perfect pine. It was so big, Daddy had to cut a bit off so the star wouldn't scrape the ceiling. Lights, ornaments, tinsel. Daddy lifted me up to the mantle to hang my stocking. My dolls stayed up to see Santa Claus, and in the morning they all had new clothes. Grandma carried in platters with the world's biggest Christmas dinner. Joey's Christmas puppy chased my Christmas kitten up the tree and it would have fallen over but Daddy held it while Mama got the kitten out. Daddy said every bad word there was but he kept laughing anyway. I sneaked my favorite plastic horse into the nativity scene, between the camels and the donkey.
I came back to reality slowly, with a silly smile on my face and a tickly feeling behind my eyes like they wanted to cry. The phrase "visions of sugarplums" took on a whole new meaning.
"How long has it been," Santa asked, "since you played with a nativity set?-"
"But it symbolizes-- "
"The winter-born king. The sacred Mother and her sun-child. Got a problem with that? You could redecorate it with pentagrams if you like, they'll look fine. As for the Christianization, I've heard who you invoke at Imbolc."
"But Bridgid was a Goddess for centuries before the Catholic Church-oh." I crossed my arms and tried to glare at him, but failed. "You're a sneaky old Elf, y'know?"
"The term is `jolly old Elf.' Care for another sugarplum?"
I did. I tasted gingerbread. My first nip of soy eggnog the way the grown-ups drink it. Fresh sugar cookies, shaped like trees and decked with colored frosting. Dad had been laid off, but we managed a lot of cheer. They told us Christmas would be "slim pickings." Joey and I smiled bravely when Mama brought home that spindly spruce. We loaded down our "Charlie Brown Christmas Tree" with every light and ornament it could hold. Popcorn and cranberry strings for the outdoor trees. Mistletoe in the hall: plastic mistletoe, real kisses. Joey and I snipped and glued and stitched and painted treasures to give as presents. We agonized over our "Santa" letters...by now we knew where the goodies came from, and we tried to compromise between what we longed for and they thought they could afford. Every day we hoped the factory would reopen. When Joey's dog ate my mitten, I wasn't brave. I knew that meant I'd get mittens for Christmas, and one less toy. I cried.
On December twenty-fifth we opened our presents ve-ery slo-wly, drawing out the experience. We made a show of cheer over our socks and shirts and meager haul of toys. I got red mittens. We could tell Mama and Daddy were proud of us for being so brave, because they were grinning like crazy. "Go out to the garage for apples." Mama told us, "We'll have apple pancakes."
I don't remember having the pancakes. There was a dollhouse in the garage. No mass-produced aluminum thing but a homemade plywood dollhouse with wall-papered walls and real curtains and thread-spool chairs. My dolls were inside, with newly sewn clothes. Joey was on his knees in front of a plywood barn with hay in the loft. His old farm implements had new paint. Our plastic animals were corralled in Popsicle stick fences. The garage smelled like apples and hay, the cement was bone-chilling under my slippers, and I was crying.
My knees were drawn up to my chest, arms wrapped around them. My chest felt tight, like ice cracking in sunshine. Santa offered me a huge white handkerchief. When all the ice in my chest had melted, he cleared his throat. He was pretty misty-eyed, too.
"Want to come sit on my lap and tell me what you want for Christmas?"
"You've already given it to me." But I sat on his lap anyway, and kissed his rosy cheek until he did his famous laugh.
"I'd better go now, Frannie. I have other stops to make, and you have work to do."
"Right. I'd better pop the corn tonight, it strings best when it's stale."
I let him out the door. The reindeer were pawing impatiently at the moon-kissed new-fallen snow. I'd swear Rudolph winked at me.
"Don't forget the hot tea and cookies."
"Right. Uh, December twenty-fourth, or Solstice, or what?"
He shrugged. "Whatever night you expect me, I'll be there. Eh, don't wait up. Visits like this are tightly rationed. Laws of Nature, y'know, and She's strict with them."
"Gotcha. Thanks, Santa." I kissed his cheek again. "Happy Holidays."
The phrase had a nice, non-denominational ring to it. I thought I'd call my parents and in-laws soon and try it out on them.
Santa laid his finger aside of his nose and nodded. "Blessed be, Frannie."
The sleigh soared up, and Santa really did exclaim something. It sounded like old German. Smart-aleck Elf.
When I closed the door, the radio was playing Jethro Tull's "Solstice Bells."
I respect what Fox 2 is doing by following religious beliefs and traditions. I also respect the fact is St. Louis is a major Catholic town. However, why not follow a few non-traditional religions? Why not go to a Buddhist Temple or possibly speak with a Pagan and see what they believe in and follow. To me, this would open a lot more eyes to the one thing that has made this country great, religious tolerance.
Well, it is that time of the year, I am ready to crawl under a rock and hide. Yep, American Idiot is back on TV and there is no escape from it. Someone give me a sharp instrument to poke out my ears!
I almost have to walk away from my favorite news crew, Fox 2, to get away from the show. How can American Idiot be considered news? Come on folks, it is just a REALITY TV show! There is no talent on this show. None, zip, nada!
Case in point, the LOUNGE SINGER who won last year. Can he dance? Nope. Can he play an instrument? Nope. Can he write his own music? Nope. Not one American Idiot can do any of these things.
Do you want a real talent show? Then bring on REAL singers/songwriters and have them perform! Not some talentless hack who performs for a REALITY show! They remind me of a bunch of performing monkeys! Speaking of which, monkeys would make better entertainment. :)
Will someone please pull the plug on this insanity? American Idiot just has to go away from TV.
Anyone else feel the same out there?
I am ready for them to be over. I am tired of the endless crowds, the endless holiday specials, the endless commercials and in general the political correctness.
I consider myself to be a Pagan (duck, here come the torches!) and I am not offended by Christmas. I only say that because a majority of the Christmas themes comes very ancient traditions.
In case you are wondering which ones, here a few that I have found out on the web:
Evergreens are symbolic of enduring and renewed life, which is why decorate our homes with them at Christmastime. The fetching in of green branches is a magical rite to ensure the return of vegetation at winter's end. Our modern day Christmas tree is the centerpiece of this belief.
Huge Yule logs were burned in honor of the sun. The word Yule itself means “wheel,” the wheel being a pagan symbol for the sun. Mistletoe was considered a sacred plant, and the custom of kissing under the mistletoe began as a fertility ritual. Hollyberries were thought to be a food of the gods.
In 350, Pope Julius I declared that Christ’s birth would be celebrated on December 25. There is little doubt that he was trying to make it as painless as possible for pagan Romans (who remained a majority at that time) to convert to Christianity. The new religion went down a bit easier, knowing that their feasts would not be taken away from them.
The Christmas wreath is another pagan symbol adopted by Christianity. The Wheel of the Year is often symbolised by the wreath. Its circle has no beginning and no end, illustrating that everything in its time comes back to its point of origin, to repeat the cycle over and over. Scandinavians began the tradition of hanging the wreath at Yule, the beginning of their new year, to commemorate new beginnings in the cycle of life.
So, over this holiday season, give some thought as to where these traditions began and celebrate in your own way. :)
