(Continuing from thoughts earlier today.)
I’ve spent the day feeling like crap barely warmed over, as could be expected. Lots of hiding in my room and crying.
I also feel this is a step in the right direction. What seemed hopeless and insurmountable now seems like something I can handle. The phrase “dressing the dead” comes to mind. I’m not sure what that means, but it feels like a right thing to do, something I couldn’t do before. I can give proper respect, and I can move on. I’ve been thinking of this Kemet-Wesir(et?). What iconography would I use to depict her? Maybe I should make a shrine, or a holiday of mourning. Maybe recognizing her will open me up to considering my other blessed dead.
Others speak as if she still lives, or that they will revive her or bring her back. After what I’ve seen, such talk seems full of denial. If I can’t accept her passing then I can’t let go. I can’t move forward. Though perhaps there is a Kemet-Heru in counterpart to the Kemet-Wesir. We are making an effort. It will never be like it was, and it shouldn’t be. This is a different age. Some parts of the old ways are best left buried. I may be a heretic for saying so, but then we knew that already. I also see that the reconstructionist hissy fights may be resolved by seeing the difference between the Kemet-Wesir and the Kemet-Heru. Both are valued. Both have a purpose. Do not pit one against the other. Should we try to understand the past and recover her missing members, dressing her in solemn respect? Absolutely we should. Should we look for her face among us and celebrate her in the modern world? Yes! That’s the only way she will have life. And if someone is better suited to one task than the other should we berate them for it? Of course not!