Liber ab Mortuus (Book of the Dead)^261
While assembling a video chat server for the online community at http://www.Pagannation.com,
a friend of mine named Duane and I were descended upon by modern day missionar-
ies. For some reason, they seem attracted to Pagan shops such as mine. After they
dispensed with the formalities of determining that we are not saved, they moved on to
what they must have thought would be our breaking point:
“A.J., what happens after you die?”
I answered by simply stating that because I am not dead, I don’t know. They were
happy to inform me, so I assume they were dead. After all, unless you are dead how
would you know for sure? I couldn’t provide them with an answer, and I cannot pro-
vide you with an answer. I cannot tell you what Wiccans think about death because it is
far too personal a matter to dare attempt to speak for Wiccans in even the most gen-
eral of terms. Nor can I provide you with rituals that will ease the hearts ache at such a
loss. But I can tell you that the pain of loss is normal, and I can tell you how I feel about
the subject.
I do not believe ashes to ashes and dust to dust is appropriate terminology to sum up
the life and accomplishments of anyone with even the tiniest life. So rather than recog-
nizing my death when it comes, I beg of my kith and kin that they recognize my life and
the lives that I have touched rather than mourn my loss.
Do with my body what you will. Bury or burn it. Set it afloat, or feed it to the fish. I
do not care because whatever my fate is, that fate is no longer attached to the flesh that
I once inhabited. If you think it would raise a smile, prop it up at my wake with Guinness
in one hand, and don’t forget the Guinness for the folk who come to celebrate my life
rather than wallow in my death.
That’s it. No funeral, ritual, or large production, just a party so I can look down (or
up, as the case may be) and see that the folk that I love will continue in love after I have
died. Should you want to comfort the folk who were particularly close to my heart, then
tell them my tales. Instead of rambling on about what a loss my death was to the world,
ramble on about how different the world would have been should I have not lived and
be grateful that I did. If that is too much to ask, then don’t drink my damn beer.
You see, in all of our talk about there being no judgment day, when that thread is
finally cut, I believe very much that a person’s life can be judged by the stories one can
tell of his or her life. After all, what else would our earthly legacy have to know us by if
not our stories?On Facing Death
“My name is Damien Echols and I am on death row in Arkansas.”^1
After receiving that letter, I spent weeks searching for help on how to reply. I have
decided there is not one book on the subject of giving spiritual advice to someone on
death row, much less for someone who is on death row with virtually no evidence brought
against him except for his involvement in a minority religion. With the complete and
total failure of Pagan books to address the issue, I turned to the more established clergyy WB Chap 16.p65 261 7/11/2003, 6:04 PM