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Me and My Dragonfly (Totem)

Updated on August 18, 2008

Several years ago, on a company camping trip, several of us had gathered around a picnic table just killing time until everyone arrived. Barb, our resident Wiccan, was shuffling a deck of medicine cards and offering to read them for us. Of course I would volunteer. I'm one of those people that will push the Kung Pao chicken to the side in order to read my Chinese astrological sign on the paper placemat. I have several books on general astrology and have indulged on an amateur level in reading planetary charts. I'd never heard of medicine cards though. The lure of discovering my very own totem animal was just too much of a temptation to resist.

Similar to the dealing of tarot, a person selects various cards from the deck and they are laid out in significant patterns. One by one, Barb introduced each card, turned it over and explained their meaning. "This one is special," she began when she came to the final card, "it represents your dream guide." Before she could flip it over, however, my hand shot out and covered hers, preventing her from turning it. I wasn't sure why I'd done that. Barb paused, looking at me questioningly...and with a puzzled frown I blurted out an explanation.

Remember in "The Sixth Sense" when Haley Joel Osment confessed to seeing dead people? In the same creepy kinda whisper I simply said, "I dream of dragonflies."

Don't misunderstand me. I don't mean to say I was actually aware of their significance. It had become a personal joke to me that whenever my life was about to take a serious turn or when something momentous was about to occur...a dragonfly would appear in either a dream or in reality. They were bugs...but still pretty much just bugs.

I lifted my hand and nodded to Barb that she should continue. Keeping an eye on me, she turned over the final card.

Yes, it was the dragonfly.

"You know," Barb muttered, "sometimes you really creep me the fuck out, Laurie." With satisfaction, I noticed that the skin on her arms was as goose-pimpled as mine was.

Last week, while staying at my sister's house, I would often wander outside to take a breather from the stress of funeral arrangements. Toni and her husband have turned their backyard into a wonderful natural oasis. While green grass can be found in Arizona, it cannot be compared to the damp lush carpet that grows in New Hampshire. I slipped out of my shoes and sunk my bare feet into its welcoming coolness, meandered past the gardens to admire the flowers and strayed down the path that led into the inviting shadowed cathedral of pine trees that dominate the back part of their property. Everywhere there were dragonflies, flitting through the air, the sun catching their wings and reflecting back prisms of light. My sister's husband, Dennis, said that they were abundant because of the rainy summer. I was just grateful for their companionship as I wrestled with my current dilemma.

One of the things I wanted to do for my mother was give her a proper eulogy. Being the writer in the family, my siblings all turned to me to not only write it...but to deliver it. The burden of my task was enormous and it weighed on my mind heavily every minute of every day. From the moment I arrived at the airport to begin my journey eastward, I began casting about for sources of inspiration. None met with my approval...they didn't feel right. I grilled my siblings for memories...favorite moments in Mom History...and while they were all good...they still didn't have that cohesion I was looking for. The closer the funeral loomed, the more sleep I lost over it. I owed it to my mother to make it the best thing I had ever written...she deserved nothing less.

By Wednesday night, I was close to panic. The funeral was Friday morning...if I didn't write it on Thursday...then I would fail my mother. I did the only thing I knew to do...I prayed. "Mom," I whispered, "I need your help. Can you...perhaps give me a hint? I promise, I'll pay attention...I'll be ready for your answer...just...could you point me in the right direction?"

Thursday morning arrived and I awoke no closer to an answer than I had been upon falling asleep. The inside of my eyelids felt like sand paper as I poured myself a cup of coffee and wandered out onto the back deck to ease myself into consciousness and find the will to start another day. My siblings and I decided to divide and conquer. Two would go to the florist, two would go to monastery to make a donation in my mother's name and I would stay behind to write the eulogy without fear of interruption. Neither my brother nor sisters wanted to bother a creative genius at work. Discouraged, I was close to tears...I had nothing.

The door opened quietly and my older sister shuffled out with her own mug of steaming coffee. We stood quietly side by side. I knew she was wrestling with her own demons. Earlier in the week Michele had confessed that she felt unnecessary...that her contribution to events was so small as to make her question her very presence. Of course, we tried to reassure her that she was very much needed...but I could tell that doubt still lingered.

"You remember," she began softly, "Mom's crazy recipes? You know the ones I mean...where she didn't really have a measurement for a particular ingredient? It was always...'until it looks right?'"

I smiled thinking about it.

"Yeah," I said, "I do..."

"I don't know why I just thought of that," she added thoughtfully, taking another sip of her coffee.

I turned to her, to give her a comforting hug...and was frozen in my tracks.

Sitting on my sister's shoulder, just out of her peripheral vision was a dragonfly. Before I could point, before I could even utter a word, it lifted up and flew away...but it didn't matter. I had my answer.



"Would you mind very much if I steal that idea for Mom's eulogy?"

Michele gave me a puzzled look after shaking the rather dazed expression from her face.

"It's's better than perfect," I said excitedly, "thank you...oh thank you."

I then squeezed her half to death and bounced off to grab the laptop, barely hearing her as she said, "Of course you can."

And I wrote...

My brother in law, Dennis, gently steered people away from me and kept me supplied with cup after cup of coffee. I sat outside beneath the shade of an umbrella, chain smoking like a addict, focused on the words before me. My sister's words stayed with me throughout that day...and I understood that my mother's recipe measurements weren't simply directions for cookies, cakes and was a recipe for life...and a recipe for writing as well. Slowly I added the ingredients...a pinch of this, a dash of that...and under my fingertips it began to take form. I knew when it was done because it felt right...

Still I held my breath as my sisters read the eulogy. When I saw a tear slowly slide down a cheek, followed by a surprised laugh and a smile...I knew I'd hit my mark. Only then did I finally exhale...

Now all I had to worry about was reading it.

It wasn't easy. I took a deep breath...smiled at Michele and introduced the eulogy by thanking her for making it possible. Not only had I received my message...the answer of what to write...but my mother had also managed to deliver it via the one person that needed to know just how very necessary she was. As for the actual reading of the eulogy...I managed to keep my emotions in check and only choked twice. When it was over, I kept my head down and quietly took my seat. Michele wrapped her arm around me and hugged me close...but I couldn't look up...I was too emotionally raw to look into anyone's eyes to see how it had been accepted.

To my immense pleasure, people came over after the service to tell me how moved they had been, quoting parts of the eulogy that had been especially meaningful to them. Listening to them, the burden that I had been carrying for days lifted from my shoulders and a peaceful feeling took its place. I hadn't disappointed my mother...and that was what mattered most.

On Saturday morning, after having slept well for the first time in days, I was alone on the back deck with my habitual cup of coffee. To my amusement, a dragonfly landed beside me on the porch railing. Feeling like a complete idiot, I smiled at it and bent over until we were at eye level with each other. "Thank you," I said. The dragonfly cocked its head to the side as it watched me. "Great," I muttered under my breath, "I'm outside having a conversation with a bug." To the dragonfly, I said, "Tell my Mom, that I miss her okay...and that I hope we did everything right." To my surprise, the dragonfly bobbed its head and I had to look around. Where were my sisters when I needed them? They simply had to see this. At the very least...just to confirm that I wasn't imagining this.

" you aren't just an ordinary bug," I continued hoping that perhaps if I prolonged this conversation, Michele might step out onto the deck. "I swear to god though...if you start talking...I'll be forced to squash you. Understand?"

And then...I tentatively put my finger up to the dragonfly...the way you would with a bird...holding my breath...thinking for sure it would fly away...

Instead, it stepped onto my finger.

We stood looking at each and this bug. Part of me was saying...this is not normal bug behavior...and part was has to be normal bug behavior because here I am standing outside with a coffee mug in one hand and a dragonfly perched on the finger of the other. But then again...

I wanted to prolong this magical least until a witness arrived...but I was pretty sure that I was treading a fine line between sanity and the nearest psychiatric facility. Instead I gave the dragonfly one last smile and lifted my right hand up into the air...watching as it flew off.

I am Laurie...a Cancerian, born in the year of the Rabbit. My totem is the dragonfly...and I consider myself privileged to be in its care.


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    • profile image


      6 years ago

      I also had to write my mother's eulogy. And recently became interested in animal totems. All my life I have noticed dragonflies and now I see them more often. A lesson to be learned.

    • akeetlebeetle profile image


      7 years ago from Mesa, AZ

      That was a beautifully written hub!

      It brought tears to my eyes. It was very well written.

      You have a very powerful totem, though it may be small and a bug.

      I'm sorry for your loss. That was tough to go through.

    • spryte profile imageAUTHOR


      8 years ago from Arizona, USA

      Cindy :) Say hi to him for me would you? And...thank you!

    • profile image


      8 years ago

      Thanks Laurie. Your story was just what I needed to read. So vividly written. A dragonfly has been sitting outside my window looking at me for like five minutes. I think I might go try to talk to it ;)

    • spryte profile imageAUTHOR


      10 years ago from Arizona, USA

      Hi Jeff:

      Nice to see yet another totem in the comments...and wolves even! I shall have to make it a point to look up their traditional meaning when I have a moment.

      I understand what you are saying about death being a release...freedom if you will. It's difficult for me though to reconcile it with the loss of my own parent at the moment. I can't see her asking to be released just yet...but on the opposite side, I should be grateful that she never had to suffer a debilitating sickness or disease. Still very mixed emotions as you can see.

      A good friend of mine has a similar affinity for regard to your wolves. Don't even get him started about how it affects him to see one in a zoo. He'd be the first to admit that he dreams of rescuing each and every one to set it free.

    • Chef Jeff profile image

      Chef Jeff 

      10 years ago from Universe, Milky Way, Outer Arm, Sol, Earth, Western Hemisphere, North America, Illinois, Chicago.

      My totem is a pair of wolves, and I have always felt a close kinship with them.  Some years ago I saw two wolves in a cage, looking forelorn and without hope of ever seeing freedom again.  This was at a small county zoo & museum.  I am certain the wolves had been inujured and brought here for care, and perhaps could not be released back into the wild.  Just the same I swear I plotted to set them free, but that didn't happen.

      When I went back to see them again I talked with them as they walked round and round in circles in their cage.  It was spacious enough I suppose for them to criss-cross, and there was a branch of a tree for them to rub against.  But no matter how much room they had within that cage they longed to be free.  I appologised and vowed to do right by them.

      I planned to return at night and let them go, but when I came back they were gone.  They had freed themselves, but not in this life.

      Once in Florda a huge dragonfly settled on the porch light fixture at my sister & brother in laws' house.  It remained there for many days until I realized it had alas breathed its last.  Carefully, I took up its light body and marvelled at the structure of it, how the wings were so perfect, the eyes though dead seemed alive with colors and reflections of sunlight.

      Even in death one can find freedom and escape from so many of the things that plague us in life.  After my father died last March I have had the feeling that he comes back to my mother and sits by her bed.  Sometimes just as I am drifting off to sleep I hear him call my name.  My sister says the same happens to her.

      I may be dreaming, but I may be hearing his voice, strong and loud once more, no longer fettered by the sickness that took him in his 85th year of life.

      Dream of your dragonfly, Spryte, and dream of your deer, Bob, and I'll dream of my wolves.  And in the end, I hope we can indeed speak with them, and they with us.

    • spryte profile imageAUTHOR


      10 years ago from Arizona, USA

      Eric - Okay, now you have me dying of curiosity over what gave you shivers that you don't need to mention here. Something that was even more strange than the letter "M" in the photo of the ashes...that has to be something...

      I'd like to think I was like my the very least, she is the person responsible for my love of reading, my sense of humor and my innate curiosity about everything. I always loved to make her laugh.

      How long ago did your mother pass away? And yes, I think I'd like very much to share eulogies in time.

      Bob -

      I'd be fascinated to hear about your experiences with the deer as your totem...and if you figure out where the dragonfly falls, please let me know.

      I'm not sure how you felt when you wrote the eulogies...but I was scared to death. Your father and mother were fortunate to have your talented pen at work for theirs. Which one gave you the green thumb...or was it both?

    • Bob Ewing profile image

      Bob Ewing 

      10 years ago from New Brunswick

      The dragonfly is not my totem , the deer is but that is another story, the dragonfly holds a special place for me although I am not yet sure why. Thanks for sharing this personal encounter. I too wrote an eulogy for my mother and my father some years ago.

    • Eric Graudins profile image

      Eric Graudins 

      10 years ago from Australia

      I think that they probably are watching. And would probably get on pretty well with each other - if your mother is anything like you.

      The dragonfly experience must have been quite incredible.

      When our family was scattering my mothers ashes over the wilderness which she loved, we also had a quite amazing moment.

      A photo was taken of the last handful of ashes that was thrown out over the tops of the trees.

      When we looked at the photo, the handful of ashes had been frozen as they fell.

      They formed the letter "M".

      My mothers name was Melanie.

      There was another amazing aspect to the photo as well, but I don't need to mention it here. It still sends shivers up my spine when I look at it.

      When you're over this a bit more, I'd like it if we could exchange eulogies.

    • spryte profile imageAUTHOR


      10 years ago from Arizona, USA

      Hi Eric -

      Well, after my experience, I commiserate wholeheartedly with you on the difficulty of writing a eulogy for your own mother. Having read some of your hubs and comments as well, I can see how you must have managed the feat of balancing words to invoke both tears and laughter in that incredible way that you have. I hope that both of our mothers are watching us even now...perhaps shaking their heads at the antics here on the hubpages...and enjoying the humor as much as we are.

    • Eric Graudins profile image

      Eric Graudins 

      10 years ago from Australia

      Thanks so much for sharing this very personal moment of your life with your friends here.

      I also had to write the eulogy for my mother. It was very difficult, but turned out very well. People are supposed to cry at funerals. There were some tears through it, but also quite a few laughs - which is exactly what my mother would have wanted!


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