[Oe List ...] Wayne

[Margaret Aiseayew]

Dear Jo and all,

This news comes as a great, painful, overwhelming shock.  I am so saddened.

I'm sure that we have all had those dreams that seem to last all night long,
even though we awake, get up, go to the bathroom (most of us are old enough
to understand that part) and go back to sleep only to be in the same dream
again, with greater intensity and detail.  Last night, it was about a death
in our community.  The event happened indoors and the body was moved
outside, lovingly wrapped and gently held by different ones of us.  There
was a huge stage made of blocks of foam all wrapped (actually beautifully
sewn) in blue velvet.  A block would be pushed out, a face would appear and
a story would be told.  Someone in the circle in front of the stage would
put the block back in place.  Someone in the circle would tell a story.
Sometimes as someone in the front circle would be telling a story many
blocks would come out and the response represented in the story would be
acted out.  This only happened when the story needed a massive response of
care or demand for justice.  There were tears.  There was laughter.  It was
obviously "us" because of recognizable persons in the circle (some of whom I
haven't seen for years, some of whom are no longer with us on this plane)
and because of the breadth of the geography represented in the stories.

 

It was a gentle night (in the dream) and as morning approached, I woke up.
I made some notes.  There was a huge metal framework around the velvet
squares which were actually rectangular in shape, that gave the outdoor
stage great stability.  As is the case in dreams, there is no explanation
for the fact that the entire structure did not collapse when one or many
squares came popping out.  I did not want to rise.  I got up a couple of
times, got a cup of coffee, fed the cat, and then I went back to lie down
because my Monday morning "schedule" is to go through my last week's email.

 

It seems rather obvious that a part of me wanted to avoid the news.  Wayne
always took me back to my roots, as did the combination of Wayne and Jo.
Wayne and I participated in a weekend retreat with Slicker in 66.  I showed
up from Morningside and Wayne had arrived from Dakota Wesleyan.  We joked
about this connection in places as far removed as Nigeria.  Wayne's ability
to recover the story value in events always amazed me.

 

It hasn't reached zero here yet today and last night the winds were in the
30 to 55 mile per hour range.  The house shook most of the night, so there
was comfort in the peacefulness of the dream world I entered.  Now, I am
reminded of the Buddhist traditional understanding that great winds appear
with the passing of great teachers.

 

It seems a bit self-centered to have bored you all with this weary tale, but
it seemed important to me to remind us of how intimately we are connected.
If you should have any doubts, Jo, about the sincerity of those who have
mentioned that they are holding you and the boys in their thoughts and
prayers, let them go.  Care for yourselves and know that you are being held
in a powerful circle of light and love and deep respect.  We recognize a
great life, greatly lived, with phenomenal impact on the whole of a huge
personal particular circle and on behalf of thousands of persons who will
never even know Wayne's name that are spread across the planet.  They are
richer for his expenditure on their behalf and poorer for not having had the
blessing of those of us who have known you both.

With love and care, Margaret

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