I found a tree stump in the woods across the road, in a small circular clearing about nine feet in circumference, facing North. Using it as a natural alter, I placed a candle, incense, blessed water, and a combination of honeysuckle and magnolia.
After a brief invocation, I gave honour to the Goddess on Mother’s Day, and was suddenly moved to sing a song that Granny and Aunt Tudi used to sing in harmony. It’s a Doris Day song called ‘Everybody Loves a Lover.’ It has zip to do with Mother’s Day, but everything to do with the women who played the mother role in my life.
What’s so odd is, from the moment Aunt Tudi died in 2011 until an hour ago when I was standing in the forest singing, I could not remember the words to the song. All I could remember was the melody and the the first line, which is the title. But I sang the whole thing flawlessly, as loud as I could, with my unused, atrophied voice. I was crying by the end, but I did it.
I snuffed the candle and what was left of the incense, spread the rest of the water around the altar, and left everything there (save the cup) for use in the future.
It was perfect. It was a perfect Mother’s Day.