To Sarah. To Nate. To Dave and Heather and Mary and Jackie and Bill and Gabby and Nick and Ana and Eric and all of the other little fae-critter misfits half dream or more whose lives she affected more then we could ever tell her.

 

The first time I saw Sarah she was not Sarah but Gina – Prince of a city of bloodsuckers. Among a pack of vicious predators she was the alpha, the top, the leader. She struggled her way to her place and many years and plotlines later her reign was still spoken of. She was as ruthless as necessary and knew how to be all the things it took. I didn’t really understand this, and maybe to say I was a bit intimidated would be an understatement. I was new to the game, and all I saw was this commanding alpha female who I did not even realize was someone much more then just the leader I saw in front of me.

 

The first time I met Sarah it was not Mrs. Large or even Ms DeLotto I met, but Calista. She was figurehead for the tremere, Primogen of a decadent and golden age of elders of Buffalo. Once again she was among the powerful elite. The differences were immediately obvious – she had different motivations, a completely different personality then Gina. Of course the similarities were obvious as well. She was both terrifying and motherly to me. She was not without compassion as many in her position, but she wielded it well. I trusted her to a point- which is a feat almost unheard of for a tremere. I respected her skills as a woman in power and looked to her, wishing to be able to reach the heights she had. There was certainly an old boys club in Buffalo, and she had certainly infiltrated and held a strong position in it. It was not her underlings – no matter how often they wielded fire, flew, or showed off other glamour that I feared – but her knowledge, dedication, and wisdom.

             Within the chantry it was whispered that she was looked upon differently. So I suppose, her cohorts of this time may not see it the way I do. However, as a favored pet amongst those with power, I knew the others feared her for her skill at the game of thrones, just as much as they needed her.

 

Finally, I did meet Sarah Delotto, this icon of power whose role-playing abilities I respected and still was pretty intimidated by. What a surprise that was. As this sweet, motherly, wonderful person began to befriend me, offering me any comforts she possibly could I was dumbfounded by the contrast between her and these roles she played. Of course she also had similarities, but these were not as striking as the differences. I realized she was not the awesome Gina or Inhumane Calista, but a creature so full of love she was barely of this world. Sarah’s grasp of the dreaming was so strong that though her heart was huge and ability to love unmatched, she wove illusions so deftly that she helped carry me into a world where I could truly only see that character she played. And so, I learned.

 

She collected us, in a way- those with perhaps a little more then half our souls in dream and some parts of us stuck here in a world we did not understand. The sparrow, always fighting the nightmarish anxieties and mundanities of the world would whisper secrets of dark nesses that Sarah and her shared. The little squirrel girl artist, so much a true dreamer that it hurt to watch her have to do anything else – protected and reveled and uplifted by Sarah’s understanding of the pain of banality. My own sweet and beautiful laureate, who fought the pains of the world with drugs, and dumped them down the toilet in tears, while Sarah taught him and helped him and consoled him with wise words of days past when she thought the same remedies, might work. She indulged the satyrs and showed us there were times to play and times to put our pipes away. With the truth-seekers she shared truths, tarot readings that caught all our breath and stories that captured our aching hearts and hungry minds. She expected more from our big hearts then most of the world would admit. Sometimes we disappointed her, but when we didn’t, the world was always better. There were many of us, some I knew better then others, some I did not know at all. There are always wanderers and dreamers looking for a home, and Sarah had more then enough room for us all. Satyrs, Angels, Animals, Fairies, we were all with our own mother – who was made with even less of the stuff of this world then the rest of us. We were safe under her roof, in her home, if we were safe anywhere.       

There were countless times Sarah counseled me. She was a single point of safety in a world I felt I wasn’t made for. I shared this feeling with many of the other misfits she kept safe, but she was different. I remember thinking the same thing that many of her friends probably thought – that this world was dead for dreamers, that it was not made for someone like me. Of course, there was always hope or we would not have kept trying, we would not be the dreamers we are. Sarah helped us keep that hope.

            Even time itself eluded me, and there were many times Sarah had to forgive me – and did forgive me, for getting lost in another moment and forgetting some plan or another I had made with her. She knew my heart was constant somewhere deep down underneath the fluttering of my head and words. She was warm and safe and she understood that I felt the pain of the dream and dealt with it how I could, even when it was ways she knew I was better off not doing.

 

            Nathan and Sarah were the kind of love story that the rest of us dreamers wondered if we would ever have. When I first met Sarah and Nate, I played satyr – falling passionately for one person after the next but committing to none of them. I freely gave away pieces of my heart thinking I’d never run out, and of course took my share of pieces from others. Monogamy was a dirty word to me, I would joke. I had the dream of this pure and perfect love that was somehow unreachable for someone like me.

            Then I watched Moulin Rouge with Sarah and Nate, as they held hands and whispered lines from the movie during their favorite parts. As if this incredible love story was not enough to besiege my heart… I also had the real thing right in front of me, Sarah and Nathan nearby sighing, knowing they understood the love this movie showed more then I could really, just yet. They made dinner for me and talked to me, moving synchronously as wonderful couples have the ability to do. I was completely overwhelmed by these simple little actions, and laughed with them, warning them to stop making me think that maybe I did want a relationship after all.

            They were that first “real” couple I guess. The first pair I had seen together and actually believed, yea, this will last. This is the dream. I saw them and thought of my parents, a family, a love that was unbreakable. They were made for each other – the Cat and the Rat. They taught me as much, if not more, about relationships then anyone else I knew. They knew what a home meant, and made it, and invited us to be part of it. They were there when I was disillusioned with school, showing me that there were other things that mattered more. They were there when I finally did fall in love, and my heart was broken, to feed me comfort food and love and stories and hope.

 

            As we grew older we learned more and more how hard it is to live in this reality full of nightmares and pain. Even the smallest amount of the dream – the littlest taste, would help us get through the day with belief – but make us feel more disconnected from this world.

 

Many of us moved on.

 

Many of us learned how to hide the dream. We learned how to keep a job, go to class, and think about the things we were supposed to, and yes, we wanted to protect the dream, but we learned how to balance it a little.

 

A lot of us moved in different directions. We did not gather as frequently though we still had Sarah’s version of holidays which would relieve us from all the madness we had to put up with from our families and make us feel that yes, we were loved and it is meaningful to celebrate together. Certainly not out of touch or out of mind, we still had connections with each other that would last our whole lives. However, we needed each other less, maybe… or we needed to separate ourselves a little from the dream in order to survive the reality.

 

I did not spend as much time with Sarah and Nate. School took over my life, and I saw many of us being a lot more separate from each other then we used to. The few visits I did get with them were always wonderful, and reminded me of the dream I did not get to indulge in so often. They were so full of love and I swear, in the winter months Sarah’s home was always warmer and more comforting then any other trick I had learned to keep myself safe from the dark and dreary Buffalo winter.

 

Sarah and Nate got married. I met Mrs. Large. Mrs. Large was beautiful and shining and happy and had her perfect life, if only for a little while. Sarah and Nathan promised to love each other through everything, even though those of us who knew them well knew they already had proved that. They got through everything together. It was more about us then them really, because they already knew that it was forever for them, no matter what words were said. But it was for us that they showed us, how it could be. How perfect it could be.

 

Sarah was our mother, our healer, the heart of a body of dream. She was not like anyone else.

 

She was not, I think it would be fair to say, really made for this world. Is that too morbid, too weird? She was a child of dream, a mother of fairies, and she shone when she created and nurtured in a world where destruction and death are everywhere.

 

 

Thinking about Sarah, and those days makes me ache like a sidhe aches for Arcadea. IT was another world then my life now, but I know the days that I let myself go to the dreams were just as real and maybe more meaningful then my days now full of dates to keep and responsibilities to fill. I still feel the ache for the dreaming. I know that those of you aching for Sarah right now, still feel that horrible ache for the dream, just as you feel that terrible longing for this beautiful and important piece of your life that you will not have back as long as you live. It’s true, Sarah, in body is gone to us, and thankfully she is a lot more then just that.

 

Sarah does not have to ache for the dream anymore. And we are still part dream. All of us have a little bit of the place Sarah has completely now. I am sure she can feel us, and will still be making sure we are safe. All of us are still dreamers, no matter how good we are at pretending we are not some days. As long as we never forget Arcadea we will still be there someday, among the angels, among the true fae, with Sarah.

She is gone, but she ached for the dream even more then rest of us do, and she gets to be there first, among us, to make it home, and safe for us just like she did here. If she wasn’t there, who would be there to make us scarves and teach us how to deal with the new adventure? She always had words of wisdom; which eventually made sense, even when I didn’t want to believe them. It seemed that every time we had to go through something painful Sarah understood. I am sure that it is painful to become a dream, even if it is something we long for, it would be a lie to say I am not scared. However, maybe I can be a little less scared now, because I know when each of us get there, Sarah will be there with her words of wisdom, making it warm and telling us it will be ok.

We will miss Sarah for always. We will never have a teacher, mother, and confidante quite like her. We will weep, and remember what it was like to feel the fires of dream burn bright and safe in her home, without having to fear the nightmares that were outside of it when she was there to protect us. I will ache deeply when I think of how many people have lost someone irreplaceable in their life when Sarah left us. Ache for each other, ache for our loss. But also be comforted, and don’t be afraid, because at the end of this life, you can count on having someone there to guide you when we shed all the hard cold things here, and finally can become the creatures of dream that we were made to be.

And remember the things Sarah taught you, and when you see a dreamer who is trying to escape the pain, and doesn’t know what to do… remember all the things that made you feel safe in her home and share them. We still have each other, we still have the dream, and we know we are not alone in this pain. All of us can put a little bit of beauty in this world to share with the dreamers who don’t get the honor to meet Sarah, our Arcadian guide.

Some day I will finally stop having to ache for Arcadia, and I hope I do not leave too much more pain in the world behind me. So, I will thank Sarah, and miss Sarah, but I will not stop believing in the dream, and hoping for a day when I will reach Arcadia too... and I know that Sarah will be there waiting, glad to see me, and eager to share all the secrets of dream she has learned since she saw me last.

 

Truth, Beauty, Freedom, and Love (above all things love) to you all.