Visiting the Isle of Ancestors by Leonie Bryant
I wandered slowly down to the wharf where the ferry would take me on a journey that proved to be a momentous one. I am grateful for the invitation to go, as well as for all those dear friends who are accompanying me in words and spirit.
My trip across the sea was a little tempestuous – I wasn't sure if I wanted to meet this person, or who it would be! I was reassured. The beautiful moon shone brightly over the waters. I felt nurtured and cared for.
On arriving at the distant shore, I embarked from the barge and wended my way up to the stone entrance. As I passed by these stones,I was aware of the sacredness of the journey I was taking. Slowly I meandered down the path towards the red light, which guided me to the great hall. The hall was filled with a warm glow from the fire
burning on the other side of the hall. Slowly, slowly I walked around to sit beside the figure and waited til I was ready to see who it was.
My Father, who had died in 1981, was sitting there just as I had remembered him. I looked into his eyes and asked him why he had hurt me as a little girl, his beautiful daughter. He said that he was in the grip of the `demon drink'. He looked very sorry and said that he had loved me and had always been proud of who I was. The tears were rolling down my face as he gave me a beautiful rose to remind me of his love.
He looked into my eyes and asked me if I could forgive him. I told him that since I had recently claimed how much I had been damaged by his actions, I did now forgive him. I had always loved him and protected him. He gave me a beautiful big fatherly hug which I had missed all my life. It felt so good.
It was time to leave and make my way back to Duwamish Bay holding my beautiful rose.