July 14, 2023
It’s been two years since Carol P. Christ suddenly “disappeared,” as the French say when they speak of someone who has died. And indeed, that is how I experience her passing,–an abrupt disappearance of someone who loomed so large in my life. I think of her daily, and this morning morning, not consciously aware that today is her Jahrzeit, I turned to my husband while we sat in a hospital waiting room, and said, “I miss Carol so much.”
I remember her laughter, her soft, gentle voice, the sweetness and love that always seemed to emanate from her. She was a teacher and model for so many of us, a fearless spirit who challenged conventional (patriarchal) notions of divinity and humanity. But mostly she was my friend, my very special friend who taught me how to live and also how to die. (She had bravely faced her cancer, and I am now following behind her as I find ways to cope with the glioblastoma that nearly felled me two years ago What I especially remember today, as summer gets under way in New York City, is her love for the Greek landscape and way of life, her full-bodied, full-hearted embrace of the sunlight and the sea (where she swam regularly) in her adopted homeland. How many of us are brave enough to follow our dreams as she did, to live every day in keeping with our convictions, to be so generous about sharing ourselves with whomever happens by?—the neighbor, the taverna owner, the bus driver, the child? She devoted herself to justice for the earth and all its inhabitants, advocating for the migrants in Lesvos, and working with the Green Party there. Yet what I miss the most today was our girl-talk, discussing hairstyles and clothes and jewelry, and home decor, and our loves -–no topic too trivial…. She could teach us all about the Goddess in her meticulously written books and essays; she could lead us to the Goddess in her carefully planned and executed tours. But most importantly, she herself incarnated the Goddess and Goddess religion in her day-to-day groundedness, a crucial antidote to the emphasis on transcendence that has been our inheritance in Western societies. Indeed, she may have “disappeared,” but her example lives on, and I work to follow her example and befriend myself.
“May her memory be a blessing.”
BIO: Joyce Zonana is a writer and literary translator. Her most recent translation, Tobie Nathan’s A Land Like You, a novel about Egypt’s Jews, is available from Seagull Books. Her memoir, Dream Homes: From Cairo to Katrina, an Exile’s Journey was published by the Feminist Press. She is currently at work on a translation of Edmond Amran El Maleh’s Mille Ans, Un Jour, a novel about Arab-Jewish life in Morocco. . Her most recent translation is Henri Bosco’s The Child and the River, published by NYRB Classics, a short novel that celebrates the presence of the divine in nature— a sort of paean to the Goddess in the form of the four elements. Water, air, earth, and fire … You can view it here.
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Oh, Carol is so much on my mind… I will always remember the shock I felt when Her Light went out….I never met her but she influenced my life in so many ways…”She was a teacher and model for so many of us, a fearless spirit who challenged conventional (patriarchal) notions of divinity and humanity”. I really appreciate the tribute to her that you have written Joyce… in my perfect world everyone on FAR would have something to say to honor Carol today… where are the voices?…. as for you, Joyce, I send heartfelt prayers. Thank you.
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Thank you for your comment, Sara. That you feel such a connection with her is a testament to the power of language to bring us together, and to her language in particular, the result of deep reflection and an unflagging commitment to truth telling
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“Story, as it turns out, was crucial to our evolution — more so than opposable thumbs. Opposable thumbs let us hang on; story told us what to hang on to.” – Lisa Cron wrote these words in her book Wired for Story. I suggest we could share stories about Carol. Here’s mine.
I was one of the Pilgrims on her 2017 fall Goddess Pilgrimage to Crete. Carol had been for a swim in the sea. Her hair was wet and she was wrapped in a towel over her bathing suit. We sat in the shade of an outdoor taverna along the beach at Zakros on the eastern tip of the island.
Part of or group was on the two hour hike along the Gorge of the Dead, a place where ancient Minoans used the caves in its steep cliffs to bury their dead.
Carol and I were visiting with each other and waiting for our lunch to be served. We learned that both of us had been born in 1945 and both of us had lived as tall girls and tall women. We discussed trying to find clothes to fit as teenagers. Both of us learned to sew. Carol told of tailoring her own clothes and was proud of her skills.
When lunch was served, I was struggling to de-bone my fresh fish. Carol noticed and asked if I’d like her help. She demonstrated the technique she used to remove the head, and then how to carefully slip the connected bones out in one simple movement.
I now had a useful life skill. Her observation that I needed assistance was part of who she was. Simple things matter. We enjoyed a lunch conversation breathing the salt air of that lovely sacred island together.
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I love this idea, Paula! Yes, let the stories begin!
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There is evidence emerging that story is not just a human attribute but belongs to the entire animal kingdom. That we don’t listen or hear their stories is our problem not theirs. Some day just sit yourself down by a tree…
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I never met Carol, but after reading her weekly posts at FAR I felt as if I did because she always wrote from an entwined combination of heart and mind. I love how she would find connections to feminism and religion in every day life, like her series on the stories of her ancestors that she found when doing her genealogy. I always so appreciated the comments that she made on my posts. I think she made a point of commenting on all, or at least most, posts. She always had insightful ideas, often things I hadn’t thought of. You knew she really read and thought about the posts before commenting on them.
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Yes, and again, Yes.
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That’s right, it’s been exactly two years since Carol passed away, that sad day. I was lucky enough to finally visit Heraklion last summer and several of the sacred places on Crete and Greece that she loved. I think of Carol and I’ve also thought repeatedly of you, Joyce, wondering how you were doing with your struggles with cancer. I’m so happy to read this post, and wish you well and that you will prevail with a long and happy life. Goddess bless you!
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Thank you so much Sally!
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I’ve been thinking of Carol these past few days also. Such beautiful memories you share here Joyce. I also remember many, many full-bodied experiences with Carol – laughing and dancing and eating and remembering loves past and present together with so many inspiring and full-bodied conversations sitting on her balcony or in her garden. And the pasta she used to make sometimes for our dinners – sauce made of sautéed garlic mixed in with yogurt and topped with cheese – so easy and so delish! She lives on in our hearts and our curious minds.
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