weighty objects

I did indeed go to Pantheacon, and am still ruminating on the experience, which was overwhelmingly positive. Witches and pagans are indeed moving on from the state of reaction and reclaiming and as a whole I felt the maturing of the Craft. Hopefully, in the coming days, I will write more, but at the moment I am exhausted and will soon go to bed.

I drove from Pantheacon down to Morgan Hill to help my cousin sort and box up the contents of my aunt’s home. I came back yesterday with a carload of stuff, that now needs to find a place in my home. Almost all the items are fraught with memories, and lots of them include my grandmother and great grandmother. My aunt was the holder of history among her siblings, the one who researched the family tree, who kept old photos, and who considered anything an heirloom that involved those who came before her. I’ve unpacked the boxes, so now there are piles of dishes and glassware on my dining and kitchen tables, waiting to find their place amongst my things. It’s pretty emotional, this mixing it up of china! I now am one of the holders of the past, guardians of the ancestor’s stuff. I’ll probably have most of it until I die, and then someone else will be sorting and packing up these things again.

Last night my dreams were vivid, and my guess is tonight’s will be as well. I’m going to fill one of the blue depression ware glasses of my grandmother’s with water and head for bed. The bizarreness of Pantheacon somehow is the perfect ballast to this weighty taking on of so many objects with history. My grandmother’s blue glass at the moment seems as out of place and context on my nightstand as a thousand and some witches filling up a corporate hotel. No wonder I’m exhausted!