My Trip to 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 done those horrible things to 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.