Silly ramblings

Ever had one of those weeks where you say to yourself, "GODS, I'm tired!"?

And then, have you ever responded to yourself by saying, "Well, it is your own damned fault for burning the candles at both ends."

And wait... have you then ever said to yourself, "Ya know... I really SHOULD make a point to have these personal dialogues only in my head so that people walking by don't keep looking at me like I'm some sort of freaky axe-murderer."

Ghosts of the Dumb Supper past

 

Tonight is the night of the Dumb Supper.  “Dumb” in this sense refers to the silence in which the dinner is eaten.  This year is lucky number 13.  Wow!  Of all of the things that have changed in my life, I’m just amazed that I have been keeping with this tradition for 1/3 of it. 

 

Borrowed from roots both Celtic and Cajun, the dumb supper provides a framework in which friends can gather, share a meal, and reflect upon those who have entered and departed from our lives.  Each participant brings a dish to share.  The dish, chosen because of its symbolic importance, can be anything whatsoever.  Some people have cracked open a can of some sort of traditional comfort food.  Others have gone all out and made a from-scratch recipe in honor of grandma.  And yet others stop by a local fast-food place to pick up a particular item reminiscent of a departed friend.  All of these choices work wonderfully and manage to create an eclectic atmosphere of respect and peace.

 

Each year brings something just a little different.  Sometimes, the dinner can be completely somber, quiet, and tranquil.  Other times, it just feels as if the ghosts themselves are waltzing in a joyous lilt throughout the room.  Only once do I remember the dinner actually being somewhat spooky.  Lit only by candles, the back room of my old house in Florida seemed so earily still.  Part of the way through the dinner, a sudden chill disturbed the calm.  Just then, a sudden gust of wind blew out the candles.  I looked around all wide-eyed at the rest of the guests, who reacted in similar surprise.  It was all I could do not to giggle at the weirdness of it all.

 

I recall year one being a spectacular kick-off to the whole tradition.  At the end of a wonderful dinner, I went to dispose of the chalice.  Disposing of the chalice was part of my own spin on the whole concept.  I had purchased a brand new black china platter to be used for the food offering for the dead.  My plan was to hold onto that platter and use it every year going forward (so far, so good).  As for the chalice, my thought was to dispose of it each year as a symbolic closing of the year.  In most of the years since that time, I have taken the chalice to a graveyard.  But in the first couple of years, the chalice wound up in a lake instead. 

 

Thirteen years ago, I lived in a lovely little apartment complex.  In the center of the complex was a lovely duck-filled lake.  In the first year, I decided to deposit everything into the lake.  I took the food offerings and put them into a paper bag.  In the center of the bag, I placed the chalice, with a little votive candle in the center.  I lit the candle and placed the bag on the water.  The floating luminary sailed out to the center of the lake.  It was just beautiful.  After a short while, the food-filled bag became waterlogged.  Rather than slosh over to the side, the bag slowly sank in place taking with it everything BUT the chalice.  The chalice continued to float with the lit candle inside of it.  It could not have been more perfect.  The next morning as I looked out at the lake, the flat surface shone like glass. 

 

The chalice was nowhere to be found.  I hope that means the spirits were pleased.