About 4 years ago I met a catholic nun through my twin bereavement group who lives with her order in San Francisco. Sister William Eileen's twin passed at 82 of heart failure but really it was Alzheimer's that took her, the way Sister tells it. Yet this identical and living twin is remarkably cogent; she drives a car, she actively serves God through embodied good works and labor. Since her "twinless" journey began she's amassed a cadre of other nuns who are grieving their own twins; they talk on the phone, they meet in fellowship whenever possible, they network, they reach their own kind. This morning I reconnected with Sister William Eileen and was set adrift anew. Growing up Episcopalian in the South I gleaned that to encounter the spirit realm was to deprive God and His Ghost of their rightful mystery. Other lesser mysteries robbed Him of street cred, or whatever, or at least that's how it spilled out of bigoted paradigms and into my...family of origin and religious faith. I bucked against some of this in the tomed Witchcraft verticals of Hege Library, but none of the dark arts truly broke the mold. This youthful, misguided conceit and influence is so very wrong. Sister William Eileen speaks of signs, visions, experiential encounters with her beloved Noreen in concrete sentences. She purrs "Noreen" as if a name is a jewel. Patron Saint of Parking, healer, guardian of children at the school next door, a holy mercy. Noreen moves among us, keeps Sister William Eileen alive, appraises God of their eternal union.
Last night I went to hear Dirty Three at the Aladdin Theater. I remember when we were both in undergrad you showed up with one of their records on vinyl, we were transfixed. I've always thought specifically of you every time I encounter Dirty Three in the wild. No voices, three sisters, known to be one of the loudest live acts of our time. A bass drum like a heart attack. A friend of ours went with me, and you know she's not the sentimental type, but all night she spoke of you. Your presence, how much she could hear you, what it felt like to be suspended in sound is to remember what it feels like to be with you, merely near you. You loud ass honkey. Please keep me close to those who let me hear you.
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