Meeting Persephone

The alarm started going off this morning and I let out a disappointed groan. I'd been having a beautiful dream and didn't want it to end. There were no men in this dream - sorry to disappoint (I'll give you a chance to stop reading now lol).

I was in the midst of my young grove, laying in the earth breathing in in the scents of bark, soil, leaves, and flowers recently blooming on the branches reading a book - fiction, which I seldom read anymore. The colors were vibrant - oranges, reds, pinks, and greens. Buttery yellow rose buds and ladybugs aplenty. A praying mantis creeping up a short trunk of a still small dogwood. And suddenly there were people in my grove. Not just people - women. Women I know and women I've never known but wish I had. Women from my past and from the past long before my time. Some were bringing in breads made by their own hands and their fresh yeasty smell mingled with the flowers in the grove. Others brought lawn chairs and wore funny hats and drank beer. I wrinkle my nose at the smell of the beer smothering the more pleasant aromas. But they were here and I would not miss my opportunity to learn from these women as that has been an often absent part of my growing as a woman myself.

I close my book and am suddenly a teenager again. I roll off of my stomach and rest my head on the knee of a beautiful young woman seated near me. She looks down at me and smiles, stroking my hair. "Grandma," I say to her in a dreamy sing-song voice "why did women ever stop fainting. You know, swooning. Women don't get the 'vap-ahs' anymore." Her brow furrows a bit and she responds with little thought, "because it was a waste of time, darling, and time is one thing we're not guaranteed." She's my great-grandmother. The mother of my maternal grandfather. She died when he was 2 years old because of a botched illegal abortion. Infection surged through her body and within days she was gone.

My face flushes and I'm returned to my current age - stupidly embarrassed by my younger self for being wrapped up with the romantic and silly when there were more important things to learn and forgetting that it's all part of the journey - even the frivilous. I'm looking at the faces of the women around me - youthful and strong as well as old, wrinkled, and soft. Wisdom abounds despite any of their ages and we sit talking for what seemed like hours. Laughter ringing out and each one has their own unique chime. Suddenly I'm pulled against my will by a different chiming. That damn alarm. Faces are fading and warm hands are patting me to encourage me to return to this other world of my real life.

And so I groan and the women are gone. My memory cleared quickly of all the wisdom I was gathering from those glorious women and I was on my own again with only the memory of "because it was a waste of time...." knowing words from a woman gone too soon from this world and her young son and husband.