Bits of Yarn, Calico and Velvet Scraps                                                            Page 8

DEATH

When my father died I was fifteen years old and I

thought I had died. When my mother died I was

44 years old and I became my own parent. When

God the Father died I was almost 2,000 years old

and, at this time, 1 did die. It was not an easy death

but one shrouded in confusion and grief. Rage too.

This death did not happen overnight.

GROWTH AND CHANGE

Many years passed, from childhood well into adult

life before change came to my Church and me. The

Church was the frame through which I viewed the

whole world. The scene was entirely patriarchal,

hierarchical, and dualistic. My eyes were shaped

that way; my soul had been distorted into that

shape.