The time is now. For a couple of reasons:

• We’ve just had our very middle aged birthday and
• We both have a thing for Jesus

Don’t get me wrong – our fascination comes not in a fundamentalist way, but rather, as an aesthetic sensibility and appreciation of religious iconography and the role of the teacher  in our midst.

I got a picture from her yesterday with the following request:

 I thought you should know that this is the picture I want on my funeral booklet. Thanks to Michael for unearthing it from who knows where, but I think it completely captures what I’m all about: irritating to Jesus who is ready to bonk me on the head because I talk too much; envious of other older women who can still pull handsome sailors and, of course, a lifelong, studious disregard for my own appearance.

With that request, and with that photo, I realised I loved her more than ever before. She’s clear, she’s unapologetic and she’s joyous (yay even unto death and men that sail the 7 seas).

Death is, funnily enough, on both our minds as we’re coming up to the anniversary of our dad’s death. He died over 20 years ago now, and so didn’t live to see his twin grandchildren turn 21, or my other sister’s Gab’s children reach their maturity. His anniversary this year will coincide  with a large family reunion we’ll be having with our cousins, and  as a catholic family we have scads of cousins – and of course we drink! Dad would surely endorse this dual celebration of life and death.

Cate and I both have a proclivity for dreaming as well, and often share notes – seeking help and insights from our shared family paradigm, culture and personal history.

My own significant dream this last week was, I believe,  portentous. It featured, as mine often do, totemic animals, often blue in colour, that talk or visit or leave me gifts. The message I took from this last one was a wake up call to check my health and in particular the health of my heart. I took it also as a direct message from my Dad who had died early from a heart attack. Of course, I did check only to find out my blood pressure was much higher than normal, with a consequent need to run a series of blood tests to find out what’s going on.

Cate’s dream this week was about being at the edge of an endless ocean, on fine white sand, more exquisite than she’d ever seen before. Her take on it was a view of the limitless, ego-less boundaries a sort of heaven on earth – when the spirit in action and the numinous in life are realised.  Cate reminded me that (as Gnostic Jesus says) ‘The kingdom of Heaven is at hand and men/women don’t see it.’

Clearly our shared preoccupation with Jesus, that grew out of a Catholic childhood, is also a pursuit of the perfect life. A life that was lived; that is – a life worth living, for however long. A life more about the journey than the destination. More about the process that the result. And of course one that can be shared (if you’re lucky enough) with someone you love.

I looked up the meaning of my latest blue (dream) totem – the cricket , to find out that it is the protector of hearth and home (hence my linking it to Dad). It’s also a totem best known for chirping and singing, which it does by rubbing its wings against a leaf. In my dream the cricket was sick and only when it started moving around did I put it back on a leaf (I guess to start singing again). Is this me, coming back to life after Bloke – getting ready to sing up a storm?

In any event, with the love of my life gone, and the other half of my heart on the other side of the world, it seems that life “just isn’t cricket” any more.  So what’s a girl to do?

Dust off the blues (and in my case working in a blue collar environment perhaps shed them altogether), get truly green, turn over a new leaf and sing aloud.. Here’s one for Jesus, One for Cate and one for me. Have I ever said it better?

I love you S.H

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