building an all hallows memory box...

The wise and prolific spiritual guide, Christine Valters Paintner, has led a variety of workshops on fresh and time-tested ways to renew the inward/outward journey. I have participated in two online courses with deep satisfaction. In one, the insights and presence of my ancestors as wisdom keepers was our focus in anticipation of the Celtic Triduum of All Hallows: the All Hallows Eve vigil as well as the feasts of All Saints and All Souls days. Her invitation was simple: prayerfully consider those who have gone from this life to life everlasting from that great cloud of witnesses of family and friends. Then find pictures or mementoes of these sacred souls and create a "memory box" as an altar.

This invitation came at the right time for me - a year before the pandemic lock down - and, after creating a list of my "saints," I eagerly explored boxes of old photographs. When I discovered I didn't posses a picture of a loved one, it was time to go online to consult obituaries, blogs, and FB pages. What a great search! A visual pilgrimage of sorts filled with memories, stories, and songs from those who have shaped my heart. I took a used-up wooden planter box, draping it with cloth and added candles and symbols of my journey: a jar of sacred soil from Chimayo in Northern New Mexico, a copper candelabra, and an interfaith decal.

Next came pictures: my siblings - two of whom are gone, and my mother and paternal grandparents - who likewise have crossed over. Our faithful old dog, Casey, who once annoyed me greatly but taught me something of patience. Four generations of Lumsdens including my great grandmother. The chapel of Chimayo where Di and I have prayed for one another and our families often. Dear Michael Daniels of precious memory who introduced me to AA. Mentors Sam Fogal from my home church and Ray and Jane Swartzback of my internship in Jamaica, Queens, NY. Dianne's mom and dad, my sisters, and maternal grandparents. Below, and not seen in this photo, were pictures of my Aunt Donna who was like an older sister to me. Candles graced both levels of memories.

This became my All Hallows altar of personal icons. As I sat quietly before it, memories and songs swelled up within the silence. There were times when I could feel some of these saints with me. And other times when there was just a holy quiet. It's a grand and simple way to reclaim this holiday - and who knows where it will lead.