Alastor's Reflection

Giving Thanks After Thanksgiving

Ξ December 13th, 2007 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Randomness |

I had intended to write this for Thanksgiving, but as happens, I got sidetracked, distracted, and time passed on despite my good intentions, sweeping them away with it. So I’d like to take this opportunity to express my appreciation for those whom I feel most thankful for, especially at this time of year. Sadly, most of them are no longer with us, at least physically, so I would also like to remember them at this time.

My Grandparents, who worked endless hours and continual days in a grocery store at the turn of the last century, and whose dedication toward making sure that their children and their children’s children would be able to inherit the fruits of their labor to be able to even attempt to reach for our dreams. 

My Mother and Father, who raised me and my brothers and sister (to whom I am also so appreciative) with equal devotion to enabling us to live good lives as best we can. They also exposed me to classical works of art, music, and literature, without which I would not have learned about The Finer Things.  At age eleven my Mother presented me with a compendium of Poetry where I first discovered Percy Bysshe Shelley through his poem Ozymandias, and my Father explained to me what it meant. I can still remember him quoting from it to this day:

I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

Percy Bysshe Shelley, 1818

As George Harrison reiterated, truly, “all things must pass.” And they have, and we let them pass with grace.

My Aunt and Uncle, who also contributed greatly to my upbringing, and my cousins with whom we often played and celebrated the holidays with. When I ran away from home, they took me in and counseled me, and proved to me that Someone Cared. When I returned home the next day it was with an insight that I had lacked and now had gained, allowing me to see that despite our differences, my parents really did care about me. At sixteen, that is an unapparent lesson, apparently!

My Friends, most of whom I’ve known for over thirty years, who accepted me, quirks and all, and continue to do so despite my moving away from them to this faraway place of my Dream-World. All too many of them have passed on, all unexpectedly and all too soon, but they remain with me here in my heart.

My numerous Acquaintances, who have allowed me to learn things outside of my realm of knowledge and zones of comfort; truly a diverse assortment of personalities, traits, and outlooks. They have enriched my life considerably.

My personal creative influences, led my Maya Angelou, without whose encouragement (at 16) I would never have had the confidence to push forward and pursue my dream of becoming a writer. Truly a Remarkable Woman, and I am so glad to have met her at such a pivotal age.

The twin Queens of my heart, Essra Mohawk and Kate Bush, both who at different stages of my life provided me with invisible, beautiful soul-mates, and an awareness that the things I held dear really mattered, reinforcing my strongest-held beliefs in Love and Spirituality. They helped me through some very hard times, and I love and cherish them both, beyond the capability of words to express. They will never get old.

To Percy and Mary Shelley, the brilliant illuminated souls whose creativity influenced and resonated so strongly with me throughout my life. I pray that UNBOUND will please their spirits.

And not the least, to You, the Reader, for your visitation and reading of my words.

As a writer, I would be remiss in not mentioning Alan Moore and Neil Gaiman, both of whom showed me that a unique vision can be told through Wondrous Stories, and entertained me so well with their bodies of work.  

There is so much more and so many more people to be thankful for, but this place is finite in terms of Space and Time, so I will leave it here as this humble and appreciative memento of Thankfulness to them, one and all, and to You.

Love, Peace, and Happiness to you and yours. After all, that’s what it’s all about! 

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