This is a True Telling. One which can now be told after keeping my promise to my grandmother’s sister that I would not reveal the tale until her children were gone too. Molly, her daughter, died recently and her son is gone… somewhere. If he is supposed to know this tale, it will find him.
My grandmother’s sister was called Lily, the youngest daughter of four children, born in, if I remember rightly, 1903. My grandmother, Violet (born 1900) was apparently embittered by Lily’s birth according to myth because Lily was both adored and adorable. Lily remained adorable all her life and I would go to stay with her both as a child and as an adult. This Telling Tale is about the last time I saw her… the last time I stayed.
It has been a long while since I had stayed with her and I was no longer a child. I was politically active, examining my sexuality and, maybe, already in therapy and I was concerned that we might have nothing in common. Perhaps I was afraid that I might not be able to love her anymore. I need not have feared.
The moment of separation came when we were watching television news reports of the women’s protest at Greenham Common. “They should go back to their children and husbands” announced Lily. Since I had, by that time, been to Greenham Common to join the protest alongside my Mother I could not stay silent and I began to argue with her. She believed parents should stay together for the children, I told her I wished mine hadn’t. I told her what it was like to grow up in that kind of open conflict. I told her women and children deserved better than the abuse meted out by some husbands. Somewhere in those moments, Lily made a decision to tell me her Truth and as I came to the end of my flow, so she began hers.
Behind this adorable woman, in this loving marriage, so loved by my extended family, was a woman who had been abandoned by her profligate husband just after giving birth to Molly. Her parents came to get her and, when he reappeared, had urged her to leave him but Lily decided, for the sake of her daughter, to remain in the marriage. That Charlie Taylor was as toxic as they come was told in the health of his daughters, whom he hated as much as he hated Lily. Molly was always sickly and a bout of a serious childhood illness left her unable to have children of her own. Molly was as lovely as her mother. She was one of the loveliest human beings I have ever met.
Lillian, Lily’s second daughter, was a ‘blue baby’ as a result of a heart defect which can be corrected now but couldn’t then. Blue children weren’t supposed to live very long but Lily told me why she didn’t live longer than her mid-twenties (?). Every time Lillian went into crisis, Lily was able to keep her alive through the power of her Love – just by holding her hand. Lillian died when the hospital prevented her from doing this. (Aside: I have witnessed this power of Love between mother and daughter since. I remember you very well, Stella Shirin Fortune, and your mother, Sue who believed Shirin died because she was a bad mother. No, Shirin died because the hospital committed an act that severed the Love connection between them. )
Lily told me that when she did her duty to her husband, he hated her even more. She said she didn’t truly appreciate what hate was or how deep it went until he was dying in hospital. Even the most difficult of people can learn to give up hating when they find themselves dying but that man was born hating and saw no reason to change. It’s a hard lesson to understand when most loving people simply cannot imagine living any other way. But there are people whose substance is made of hate. It is what they are and it is their nature to feel murderous towards Love in any shape or form.
In his prophecies of the end times, Jesus talked about families turning against each other. It is my understanding that this is occurring to humanity now and that part of our Awakening is to realise that the ones who did the ‘turning’ did so a while back. They come in all varieties and a lot of them seem to be running the world.
On that note, this part of the Telling Tale comes to a close here because we will be changing dimensions. This is a time for telling the Telling Behind the Telling. This is the Test of Truth. The one we thought we knew and now this one, only to discover there is yet another story behind here too… if you know where to look… and if you can move dimensions.