I know several of us have mentioned that we observe the custom of leaving a place set at our table today in honor of the loved ones we've lost. I'd like to take a few moments to talk about the loved ones I'm honoring today.

My parents' fathers, who I never knew but have come to understand through the way others have spoken of them, were good and honorable men. And to my mother's father, I say, should I ever have a son, he will bear your namesake. I hope to invoke some of the traits in him that your daughter spoke of so highly in you, and remind myself to nurture them.

My parents' mothers, who I did know but watched both of them descend into physical frailty before they departed our world. They both inspired me greatly, and I learned from them what it was to be a truly tough woman. Both had survived the Depression and had seen sons serve in our nation's military during war times. Both had fed, clothed and cared for children before they had microwaveable meals (hell, before there were microwaves!), when they had to hand-sew clothes out of grain sacks or whatever else they could find, and before there was television. They did all of this as farm wives and working other full time jobs; one as a teacher, the other in a slaughterhouse. And they managed these lives while still attending church every Sunday and staying involved in the women's church groups, steadfast in their faith. And they both raised fine, upstanding children who I am proud to call my parents, and my aunts and uncles.

My mother's brother, who we lost unexpedtedly a few months after his mother's death, and it nearly broke us all. He was a man that no one could help but love, with his impish grin, his infectious laughter and his easily-given friendship. More than one person said in the days following his untimely death that he was the kind of person who'd gladly give you the shirt off his back, even if it was all he had. He never failed to tell me that he thought I was beautiful, and I wondered often if he knew how much that meant to me in my awkward teenage years, and still does. Many times I've felt the loss when thinking about bringing a guy home to meet the family, and I won't be able to get my uncle Larry's approval. But then, he's managed to stay in touch with me pretty well, so it's really only a physical absence.

My mother's step-father, who is the only man I knew as a grandfather. He was completely shameless, loved all of his grandchildren and step-grandchildren tremendously, and could always rock me to sleep when I was little- even if he didn't have a rocking chair. He performed all manner of care for my grandmother when her mobility and then her health failed, and he did it all with "honey" and "sweetheart" after every phrase. He made the best vegetable beef soup in the world and I can still taste it sometimes when I'm particularly hungry for some good soul food. Even when he passed, he waited until the grandchild that needed him most at that time, my sister, had come to see him and he saved all his energy for her.

And the first familiars I had, who are off enjoying the fields of Summerland now. Star, the beautiful German Shepherd of whom all the neighborhood children were initially afraid but she won them over with her gentle nature and her playfulness. She watched over us kids when we were outside as though we were her own pups, and she was my first lesson in unconditional love that didn't come from my mother. Her protectiveness extended well beyond her death, when I could hear the sounds of her footsteps and her tags jangling during the first few weeks that I lived alone. Dusty, the cutest little mutt in the world, who not a single person could resist saying "Oh, she's so cute!" when they met her, and not a single person I ever say could resist petting her. She had such a loving personality, even when she got into old age and we may have expected her to become grouchy. All of my nieces loved her and she tolerated all manner of children's play with them. And my dear Fauxie; the prettiest little redhead I ever knew! The little Arabian mare who could make us laugh when she got attitude. She carried a "worried" look on her face most of the time, but if one of the other horses got near her hind end when we were riding, she'd lay those ears flat against her head and prop her back foot. She made us laugh by the way she was terrified of cattle, but she never ever once put me in danger when I was on her back and she showed me that even after my first horse had thrown me (literally) for a loop, it was perfectly all right - and rewarding! - to get right back on and ride again.

I honor all in my family and friends whom have passed along with my family I've never met however that's what I understand Samhain to be for blessed Samhain to you and yours,Blueflame

Awww WW. You know, maybe it's just how sensitive I am at this particular moment (getting ready for tonight and all), but thank you so much for sharing your stories. I could feel the love, and possibly the "tingling" in your tummy as your wrote such beautiful things.

I will be remembering my father (who also happens to be a Halloween baby), my grandfather, my great-grandparents, and my best friend who killed herself. My dog Nakita is with me everyday, and I just know she will enjoy her dinner tonight. I will also be honoring my hubby's dad, and grandmother. And tonight, my kiddo will be involved for the first time (actively) and I am very excited.

I'm honoring everyone in my family who has passed, but there are three plates specially set for three people

My Grandmother, Elsie Vajgrt, who we lost in April 2003. She was the most devout Christian I knew, when I was one, and I needed some faith recharge, I'd go see her. And when I told her I became a witch, she said that was what fit me best. She didn't pass judgement on anyone, never had. Only on their transgressions. Like politicians, people who had wronged her, never said anything bad about the people, just what they did. But she was forgiving as well. Theres so much I wish I could ask her about my heritage, I want to know where my family emigrated from. But I will never know, not without alot of work. Across a span of 18 months before she died, she had shoulder surgery, then after christmas she fell ill, had a stroke, couldn't speak, went to the nursing home, came out to the hospital for the following christmas, and almost went home, but then died months later in the ICU for a second stroke.

My Uncle, Scott Waterman, who we lost in August 1991. 15 years this year. Man, I feel old. This man, although I don't know alot about him, had a problematic life, not that they weren't his own, but he always found his way through. He was another person I wished to have more time with, also he was the hardest death for me to comprehend. He was taken by a guy whom he graduated with. Who was drunk. Needless to say, someone is still walking around. Although I personally think he should be walking between worlds for eternity. I guess thats not my say...moving on...

The other plate is the community plate, and also for my grandfather who passed in 1985, on the same day as my grandmother...only 18 years prior. I don't know much about him, as I was only five at the time. But I would like to know more about the relationship my grandma and him had. And more about the family themselves.

Blessed Samhain.
Crow

My Great Aunt Mare, Uncle Ricky, Pop-pop, Grandma Gladys.

Aunt Mare visited me the other day. It was moving and beautiful. Especially since she died a month before i was born.