The Final Goodbye - Wrapping It Up

Yesterday, my brother's body had been wrapped in a black quilt which was then covered with the Oglala Lakota tribal flag - a duplicate of the one fastened above the tipi doorway at the Memorial. We were running more than two hours late - right on time for "Indian Time". Solo was worried about the condition of the roads out to the cemetery - the heavy rains from the night before when Floyd had been dancing in the skies above us might have caused some serious ruts and mud baths on our way to the land. He decided he would park at the house and he and Maya would hike in from the backside. I just nodded. I had no idea and would just follow the cars. 

"At least it's not all the way to Kyle, like it was for Grandma," I mentioned in an aside to my sister. The drive to get out to Kyle for Grandma Zona's burial eighteen years ago had taken the better part of an hour and the chain of cars had stretched far back on the road as the first of us stood atop the cemetery hill. The White Cow Killer Family Cemetery was close to where Floyd lived, on Red Cloud Land. I had never been there before - I missed my brother Erby's funeral several years earlier. 

The Oglala Lakota Tribal Flag is a nine-pointed star on
a field of red. 

The drum led the procession. Although pow-wow drums are usually stationary, they do have handles and can be carried in occasions such as this. The drummers remained in a circle around the drum and were playing and singing as they led the procession up the center aisle from the tipi, then across the back and back down the northern aisle to the back entrance ramp where the hearse was waiting, The body followed on a wheeled gurney, and following after that were the remaining pallbearers, each one carrying something from the tipi - a small suitcase, a carefully rolled eagle feather headdress, and other ceremonial items. After they had passed, the immediate family joined the procession. Eventually the remainder of us left, but we left through the main doors, not the loading dock. 

I just decided to follow the cars since I didn't know exactly where the cemetery was. We ended up back on the road I had taken earlier that morning as I visited my sister Starlet in her home a short way west from Floyd's double-wide trailer. We passed the road to get down to Floyd's home, and continued down a rutted, but dry (thankfully) road, turning into what looked like a field with a broken-down trailer at the end. Cars and trucks were parking, so I joined the rest, parked my van and, pulling on some leggings and tying a scarf around my head, I left the car, locking it (of course). 

Several small boys were looking at this unexpected crowd on "their home" land - squatters who were living in the broken-down trailer. There wasn't any power to it, and several of the windows had been replaced by pieces of plywood. All I could think about was how cold it would be in there in the upcoming winter. (Later I heard two of the men talking about how there was no electricity in the trailer. I had a feeling they might be hanging a feeder cord from the electric pole at the road to at least offer some power to the derelict trailer.) The boys exited the trailer and escorted me the short distance to the cemetery, saying "Welcome to my home." 

At the cemetery was a deep hole, a pile of dirt, and a bright yellow vault. A large flatbed truck with a winch system was parked to the side, a canopy was erected at the graveside for the comfort of the immediate family (I don't think we had one of those at Grandma's funeral - it would have been nice since we were in the rain for that one). The bundled body was placed on top of the vault, long straps under it. There were more prayers and a 21-gun salute, and finally it was time to bring things to an end. 

Taking the straps in hand, the plywood was removed from beneath my brother's body and he was lowered into the vault, still resting atop buffalo furs and wrapped in the quilt and flag. (A US flag had been placed over his body graveside, which was folded up by two veteran pallbearers and given to his family.) The various bundles, suitcases, and other miscellaneous items that had been in the tipi were also added to the vault. In older days, they would have been arranged around the body on a scaffold. Now these ceremonial items and sacred items were to be interred with him.  

Once the body and items were in the vault and the straps were pulled free, the flatbed truck came with the vault lid - black and yellow, like his colors. It was perfect! The lid was lowered and locked into place, then, accompanied by songs and the everpresent drum, the entire black and yellow structure was lifted and slowly lowered into the deep hole. After the chains were removed and the flat bed moved from graveside, a group of close people were invited to throw dirt onto the grave. Barry kept it to 20-30 people before cutting it off and handing shovels to the pallbearers and later to other men who began filling the grave. A haunting voice came from the other side of the burial pit - a single woman, singing a ceremonial song. It wasn't planned, but it was stunning - a wonderful tribute to this man who had given the tribe everything he had. 

After the grave was completely filled, it was covered with the flowers that had been at the Memorial Service. My brother was laid to rest next to his younger brother in the family cemetery on the land of his forefathers and his people. It was fitting. 

We all left and returned to the gymnasium for the final feast and give-away. We were all fed soup and a variety of foods, ending with several huge sheet cakes, and everything that had been presented to the family - all of the star quilts and Pendleton blankets, etc - as well as numerous quilts and blankets that had been made or purchased by the family for this occasion, were given to people who had meant something to my brother, who had helped him or the family in some way. Probably more than fifty people were honored in this way. For Grandma's giveaway, I ended up with two star quilts and a Pendleton blanket - all of which I still use today. I didn't get anything this time, but I wasn't expecting anything either. 

Eventually I left, and Maja, Solo and I drove back to the hotel where I grabbed some really needed fun time with their new puppy, Diego. Some normalcy to bookend my day. I was leaving VERY early in the morning, so called it a night and went to sleep feeling fulfilled. I had done the right thing. I had seen my brother one last time and let him know that I loved him, that I regretted nothing of our time together, and that I wished him only the best on his continued journey. Maybe one day I'll meet him again. Maybe not. Either way, I'll probably know within twenty years or so. Mitakuye oyasin.