Spread Positive Vibes Today - We All Need It

My oldest nephew has been dealing with intestinal cancer for almost two years now, and he's finally losing the battle. He has a young daughter - probably somewhere between 15-18 (I start to lose track after a while) and lots of brothers and sisters, most with children of their own. (It's like a circus when we all get together.) In any case, Michael slipped into a coma about 24 hours ago and it seems unlikely that he'll awaken from this. His Mom visited his bedside yesterday, and we were invited to join the family at his bedside, but since the other seven kids have rallied around, I'm quite sure they don't need any additional people added to the mix. I left the decision up to DH, who decided that since Michael was in a coma and couldn't interact with him, he'd stay away. I'm not sure I agree with his rationale, but it's his decision. I guess I'll have a funeral in my immediate future, but at least Michael will finally be free from the constant, never-ending pain he's been in for more than two years. 

We won't be in the main car for this funeral, we're one of 
a lot of relatives in a very large family. I'm hoping I can 
attend the funeral, but no guarantees. We have a business 
and can't really be closed, but it's a possibility that 
Chickie Mama might be able to come over and be here 
so that both DH and I can attend whatever ceremony 
Michael decided upon. 

Family is a funny thing. You can't choose your relatives - you either embrace them with all of their faults, or you avoid them. My personal family is almost nonexistent, so the family I married into is really my family - my oldest nephew worked for DH for several years, and we were always close to him. My oldest niece is the person I had lunch with last week. We keep in close contact. I'm actually in contact with all of the nieces and nephews through Facebook. We're scattered across the greater Twin Cities area, and one nephew lives several towns to the south of the metro area. But the eight kids are all in touch all the time, and that's what family is all about. 

I didn't experience this growing up. I was an only child. My best friend across the alley was Patty Carter, the oldest of three and the only girl. We were almost inseparable until I moved to a different neighborhood when I was starting Middle School. I rarely saw her after that. I heard she married and moved to Alaska. I hope she's had a happy and fulfilling life. 

My "cousin" Missy and I were as close as sisters. We grew up across the street from each other, and our parents were best friends. Missy and I are still in touch. She lived in California for a long time while her hubby worked for the California government, and she moved back to Colorado about 10-15 years ago, settling up in the eastern part of the Front Range with her horses and her music. She loves her life out there. We haven't seen each other face-to-face for decades, but I know it would be just like coming home - seeing a sister I hadn't seen in decades and picking up from where we left off. 

I am part of a LARGE family on DH's side of the 
family. His sister had 8 children (5 adopted and 3 natural), 
and most of those 8 kids are married with kids of their 
own now. We're not quite into the next generation yet, 
but it won't be too long, I suspect. 

Well, I've rambled in this post today. A little of this and a bit of that, but it all comes down to family. I expect I'll be attending a funeral within the next week or two, and I'll have a chance to see most, if not all, of my nieces and nephews. It'll be good to see each one of them, but I sure wish it was for a different reason. So, today, spread some love. Hug your kids or your spouse and give your pets some extra cuddles. We need more love in this world, and I need the positive vibes. *hugs* Slava Ukraini. 

Thoughts of People in our Past

We were good and went to the "Celebration of Life" (or whatever mortuaries are calling their get-togethers these days). It was good to see Gary, as always. He's our landlord (took over after his Dad died), and he's a great guy. It was also nice to see Hugh again - I haven't seen him for several years although he lives rather close to me. Dean, the brother who died (apparently of a massive heart attack) was the youngest of the three brothers. Their Mom is still living and was there. It was lovely to see her again and give her a hug and chat for a little bit. She's in her 90's now, but looks quite good. 

It was quite the nice location, and an easy drive from the house. 
It's right on the way to my orthodontist, so I was very 
familiar with the road and the best way to get there quickly. 
The funeral chapel was quite large with several different 
rooms available for people to gather in. Instead of a 
photo story-board as I'm used to (I haven't been to a wake 
in more than a decade), they had a nice large screen 
with photos rotating through virtually. That was a nice touch. 

DH filled me in a little bit on how we actually knew the family. Apparently, the father, Iver Carlson, had built an enclosed porch for DH's Dad way back when, and he also re-roofed our first home - the very small 1920's house that we first moved into (DH's Grandmother's house). Later on, the company did the gutters, siding and roof for the house we currently live in. The business closed a few years ago, but they still own a lot of property in the area around the store, so they are landlords now, rather than actively doing maintenance and building. 

Our neighborhood is basically owned by two families 
and a college. One of those families is the Carlson 
family, who have owned much of the property on our 
main street and rental housing west of us for decades. 
The actual business closed about five years ago, but 
they are still very active landlords in the area. 

We didn't stay long, I wasn't expecting to. I just felt we needed to make an appearance and make sure we saw all of the major people at least once. I knew Hugh the least of all of the boys. He was the only one who wasn't involved in the family business at one time or another. I know Gary the best - as our landlord he's been in and out, helping to fix, maintain and rebuild parts of our shop for many years now. 

Radiation therapy is going really well, and it's 
smooth and efficient. I'm generally out within 
10 minutes of being called back. We're getting 
into a routine, here - LOL. 

Radiation therapy is in its' second week now and I'm not really having any physical repercussions that I can tell, although I'm sure it's doing something. But I'm feeling pretty darned good, and just make sure that I stay on the schedule they've assigned me. Today is one of those days that I might be late to work, so I'll make sure the alarm is off so that Chickie can get in on time if I'm running slightly late. You can never tell what traffic will be like on the streets, and I don't want to open late. So I'll leave a bit early to make sure I have things ready to go for her before heading to the clinic. 

Have an excellent Thursday. I'm already looking forward to the end of the week. It's been quite the week so far - LOL. Enjoy your day and please, be kind. Kindness can be infectious, and we all need some kindness in our lives these days. Slava Ukraini. 

The Funeral of Queen Elizabeth II - It Was Wonderful!

I was glued to the television yesterday, as was much of the world, watching the official funeral of Queen Elizabeth II. I was fascinated by the entire event. I had the BBC feed on my television and on my cell phone, and was watching until the end, despite having to help a couple of customers. I got to see all of the important things - the larger and longer service at Westminster, the walk to Windsor Castle, and the shorter final ceremony there. I loved the two corgi dogs and her horse, and got to see the "breaking of the wand" and the sinking of the casket to wrap things up. 

I especially wanted to see the Lord Chamberlain "break 
the rod", the pieces of which were then placed on top 
of the coffin and buried with the Queen. It was a lot 
easier with the ferrule in it, I suppose in days gone 
by, they would have broken it by breaking it across 
the thigh. 

I adore bagpipes, and there were a lot of them, but where they were used singly, they were so very effective. There's nothing quite like that instrument to pull at the heart strings, at least for me. The family was cohesive and supportive, and Charles held that stiff upper lip during what was, I'm quite sure, a very difficult public performance. 

There were two lone pipers at the ceremony, one at 
Westminster (this one), and one at Windsor (her personal 
piper who awakened her every morning). I would love 
to be awakened by a piper's song every morning. 

DH was curious about seating arrangements of foreign dignitaries, and that was a bit harder to find, but I did fine this lovely article that went into a nice bit of detail about those who attended from around the world. ( bbc.com/news/uk-62890879 ). If you're curious, you might be interested in it as well. I loved the fact that the Bidens arrived almost half an hour late because of traffic and thus, were seated in row 14, quite a ways back in the seating. This is because they had to drive over in "The Beast" - the armored car that Secret Service insists be used for transportation. The rest of the dignitaries took the bus that was made available to them, but no ... we had to be the "special little snowflake". Good grief! Serves him right, being seated so far back. 

Two of the Queen's Corgis were at Windsor to bid her 
farewell, as was her favorite pony. She wasn't hale 
enough for horses anymore, but downgraded to a 
lovely pony instead, so that she could continue 
riding - a life long love of hers. 

So, I'm off to the pool today, then a run down to the bank. Tomorrow will be hellish busy starting with a 7:30 appointment to get my car serviced, so I've got to get the banking done today. No choice. Have a wonderful Tuesday and I'll be back tomorrow, and once again, thanks to Great Britain for a truly wonderful funeral. Well done! Slava Ukraine. 

The Funeral Of Queen Elizabeth II

I'm sitting here in the wee hours of the morning after my run and shower, a cup of tea by my side, and Queen Elizabeth II's funeral on the television behind me. I wouldn't have remembered the funeral until later, but my phone was kind enough to have reminded me, so I missed very little of the events while my tea was steeping. I'm getting a lot of prayers, a lot of Jesus Christ, and fortunately also a lot of prayers past that, for the people of England, the new King, and the attempts to achieve peace worldwide. A lot of various ministers speaking prayers, many of whom seemed like kindly people, a few who seemed to be pompous idiots. Well, we can't have everything, can we? 

I loved this coronation picture of the young 
Elizabeth II with the Cathedral behind her. 
It's so similar to the view of her funeral I have 
behind me as I type these words. 

My current audio book wrapped up while I was on my final quarter-mile of running this morning, so that was perfect timing. I quickly purchased the next book of my series and got that loaded, and since Audible was running an excellent sale, I also picked up the next two books after the currently loaded volume. I'm set for a while now. 

The Queen looked old and quite alone when 
she sat at Prince Phillip's funeral less than a year 
ago. I'm sure she's delighted to be back with 
him once again (if that's the belief you have), 
and if nothing else, she's finally able to relax. 

I'm fascinated by this funeral, so I'm going to watch that, call this a short post, and return to the pomp and circumstances of a royal funeral - certainly far from different from my putting my mother's ashes into the niche I purchased for her and Dad. Have an excellent Monday and I'll be back tomorrow. Slava Ukraini. 

I Get To Spend My Birthday At A Memorial Service - Oh Joy! LOL

Today is my birthday and I'll be spending my "day off" at a funeral. Well, actually, it's a memorial service to plant the ashes of my husband's aunt. It's scheduled for 11:00 am, so right in the middle of a very hectic schedule of topsy-turvy stuff that I have to do. DH and I hadn't decided until last night which of us would attend this "event", but decided I would be the better choice. So I get to meet with two of my nieces at the cemetery entrance shortly before 11 am today and we'll plant DH's Aunt Phyllis into the ground beside her husband. 

I'm supposed to meet my niece at the entrance to 
Roselawn Cemetery. It's a lovely cemetery, and I 
should stop by the gravesite of my in-laws while 
I'm there, but I'm tight on time as usual, so probably 
won't spend the time. 

I only met Aunt Phyllis twice - once in her home in Kansas City, one when she came up to the Cities to visit with her sister - my mother-in-law. She didn't care for me - for that matter, she didn't care for many people at all, so I wasn't anything special in that regard. But, she died earlier this year and was cremated. Her cremains were sent to a cousin up here whom I don't think I've ever met. Out of that whole side of the family, I only liked her husband's brother who lived up here and was a semi-regular customer of mine at the shop. He was fun and an excellent beader. 

Roswlawn is a beautiful cemetery and it's huge. There's 
are a lot of people planted here. Uncle Gene's address 
is Section 10, Block 3, Lot 590, Space 1. He died in 
August of 1979, at age 55, so quite young. She stayed 
in Kansas City and I assume she'll have Space 2 now. 

Apparently Aunt Phyllis didn't like any of the boys in the family - Jim, his older brother Michael, or their cousin Mark. She liked my husband's sister and the daughters of the one sister who lived in California. She and her husband were childless (I suspect by choice rather than any physical aspect) and lived in Kansas City, so we didn't have to interact with her. I don't even recall her coming up for my mother-in-law's funeral. No real loss there, though. We didn't need her attitude ruining that day, and it was a bitterly cold sub-zero day in January for an outdoor funeral. Brrrrrr. 

Roselawn Cemetery is huge and sprawling, right in 
what was the outskirts of the suburb in the 1950's and 
is smack dab in the middle of the city, now. Lots and lots 
of people are planted here, including my mother and 
father-in-law. Me? Just burn me and scatter my ashes. I 
don't need or want any permanent stone to mark my passage 
through this life. 

So I'll go do the family thing and at least see my oldest niece again - always a joy. It does punch a hole in my day, though, so I'm hoping I can get the things done that I need to. No time to waste, so, I'm going to wrap this up and head out to the pool. A good swim on the first day of my next year of life sounds like the perfect thing to do. Have an excellent day. Slava Ukraini. 

A Funeral and a Celebration of Life with a Little Healing Thrown In

I checked my schedule and the funeral for Prince Phillip begins at 8:30 am local time. I'll make sure I have a TV on at work to listen/watch. I've watched most of the major events happening in Britain over the past decades - the weddings and the funerals. I can't imagine not watching this as well, although it certainly will be different given Covid restrictions. I wonder if the crowds will come out, despite the risks of contagion. I suspect they will be there, good idea or not. 

It's a bit appalling how those paying their respects in this 
photo are almost all white males in dark suits without a 
mask in sight. They rather look like a mass of penguins 
returning to their nesting area. 

The first thing on my agenda yesterday was a quick trip to Mississippi Market Co-op for veggies and miscellaneous. I had no idea what the miscellaneous would be, but knew I wanted to stock up on veggies for my veggie smoothies. I ended up scoring the mother lode! I not only found my Coconut Butter on the shelves there, but also the Fenugreek Seeds spice I had been unable to find at any other outlet. I also found a pure roiboos tea without fillers or added "Natural" flavors. I immediately made myself a lovely cup of tea when I returned home. 

Roiboos tea is from the South African roiboos bush. The 
leaves are harvested for the tea, which has a slightly 
earthy flavor with an underlying sweetness. I've loved 
Roiboos tea for years, but finding some that doesn't have 
any additional additives has been hard. Finally I 
succeeded at my co-op. 

Fridays are Zoom check-in days for my WildFit food program and it's always wonderful to see so many people who have become friends on-line. We're all stumbling through this together, and each of us have our own problems either with the program, or because of it. Our Coach, Monica, recommended I change my eating patterns slightly, adding in one more category of food for my evening meal, so I made sure to start that last night by adding Butternut squash to my dinner plate. It was quite good, so no objections from me - LOL. 

Dinner emphasized variety - we're really supposed 
to push for variety in veggies to help our bodies 
and keep from getting bored. Here I had a small 
tuna steak with sauteed mushrooms, fresh green 
beans, roasted Brussels sprouts and roasted 
Butternut squash with a small side salad. It 
was very tasty. 

I start a new class on Monday - a class in Energy Healing from Donna Eden, a world-renowned energy healer. It's a fascinating course, one I'm really looking forward to knowing more about. I know that I don't see energy fields, but that doesn't mean I can't have effective healing or that I can't do things that might be effective for others. At any rate, I'll understand much more about the way the body can heal after I'm finished with the course. I know it's a little "woo-woo" for some people, but I think it can be an effective course of treatment in many cases. It will intersect with WildFit for several weeks, but there's nothing I can do about that. My main focus is WildFit, anything else will have to be secondary. 

I'm not fond of taking two classes at the same time, and 
my WildFit program goes through most of May, but I 
couldn't turn down the chance to work on Energy Healing 
from one of the leaders in the field. I'm looking forward 
to this class, which is actually given in an 8-week format 
of download on Monday and take the week to look through 
the class materials and work through any exercises. 
At the very least I'll learn much more about meridians, 
chakras and polarities. 

On that note, I'd better get moving. I want to have breakfast before I head out and I can't be late for the funeral. (Oh good grief...I'm so ridiculous. Despite the fact that the dead won't give a darn if I'm watching or not, I still want to watch.) Have an excellent weekend and please continue to be kind, stay safe and wear your mask. I'll be back on Monday. 

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. 

The Final Good-bye - One of Two

Continuing from yesterday's post, Maja, Solo and I had moved from the bleachers to a row of chairs on the gymnasium main floor. The "schedule", as printed in the memorial handouts available for anyone to take, said the Funeral Service was scheduled for 10:00 am on Saturday, then gave a list of people who would be involved (a very LONG list of Pallbearers and Honorary Pallbearers). It ended with the notice that the Burial Service would be at the White Cow Killer Family Cemetery on Red Cloud land. 

Barry actually got things going relatively on time, with honoring songs and various sacred songs being played by the drum, interspersed with talks, prayers, and the actual visitation. The pallbearers were all gathered in a far corner to receive pins which were placed on the upper left arms of their jackets. They also got their final instructions about how to line up and who would be responsible for what. 

Friday night had featured a roll call of Veterans, honoring the veterans who were at the memorial, as well as my brother's service in the late 1950's, early 1960's. Today, instead of Veterans, there was a call-out of American Indian Movement members to honor their service to the people as well as my brother's long-time work for the cause. Solo was a bit miffed that he hadn't gotten his name down on the Veterans list, but he was proud to be called to join the line of AIM warriors, both male and female. 

Scotty Brown Eyes and a spiritual leader whose name I don't know entered the tipi to say final prayers over my brother. They painted his face in his chosen design featuring stripes down the left side of his face, dots down the right side. Eagle feather fans wafted sage and prayers over his body. Things were rearranged in the tipi for the final viewing.  

The pallbearers were requested to come to the front, where they stood as an honor guard while the final visitation was announced and a long line formed which snaked around the gymnasium. It was time for each of us to say our final goodbyes. After exiting the tipi from my own personal short good-bye, I moved down the row of Veterans, shaking the hand of each warrior, then continued on to the entire front row - the family members. Each hand was shaken, many hugs were given and many tears were shed. 

Throughout the several hours that the final visits and preparations took, the Pallbearers stood at the front, one warrior dancing without stopping. The audience also stood, dancing if possible. Maja and I stayed together and danced for the entire three hours or so it took for everyone to have their final viewing and we weren't the only ones who danced for the full time. 

The drum group never stopped singing their songs, one song melding into the next, and the sound of the drum echoed throughout the gymnasium. It reminded me how much I really enjoy the Lakota songs I had heard for so many years. I might have to try to make a Spotify playlist of pow wow songs. The drum worked so hard, I'd be surprised if they had any voice at all on Sunday as they returned to their homes. 

Finally, the family members were called up in small groups to say their final goodbyes. After everyone had their final visit, select people re-entered the tipi and began preparing the body. All regalia and sacred items used by my brother and on display in the tipi were removed and packed into several small suitcases, or wrapped carefully. The body was then wrapped in a black quilt and covered with an Oglala Nation flag. It was moved from the platform in the tipi to a gurney, in preparation for the final walk from the tipi to the waiting hearse. This was different than Grandmother's funeral had been. She had been laid in a casket with a rosary in her hands. My brother walked a traditional road - no casket. In the old days he would have been placed on a scaffold to become one with the world once again. No scaffolds allowed these days, though. 

And here I go - running over once again. I guess I'll actually end up finishing this recitation tomorrow. Oh well. It's just a lot to discuss, and I want to get my impressions and feelings down because I feel it's important, and it's my personal memorial to my brother. It's respectful to my brother, and healing for me. I'll be back tomorrow with, what will probably be the final installment in my recitation of my return to Pine Ridge, South Dakota. Have a great Thursday. 

Saturday - All My Relations Gathering

As Saturday dawned, I grabbed a quick, hearty breakfast at the cafe next door to my hotel, and hit the road. I wanted to be at the gymnasium as soon as possible in the morning to allow myself some quiet time before the rituals resumed. 

For memorial services of this magnitude, the gym is open 24-7 for the entire three days. There is always at least one family member in the front row of chairs, to allow people to express their condolences and pass along a gift of a Pendleton blanket, star quilt or just some cash in a card to help the family offset their expenses. All gifts, no matter how large or small, are appreciated. Blankets and quilts were already hanging from ropes strung on both sides of the tipi up to the basketball hoops at the sides of the gym. It was colorful and beautiful. They would all be given away by the family before the end of the day.  

I drove in to the Reservation around 8:00 am, and my car decided it should go to the right at the fork in the road, instead of the left. That brought me back to familiar grounds - family land and my Grandmother's old house, still looking pretty decent. A ramp had been added to the eastern side, heading back to the kitchen door, but the front looked the same as the last time I saw it in 2001. Parking after pushing through the usual rutted mud puddle of the previous night's rain, I walked up the ramp and knocked on the door. It was answered by a woman I didn't know, but when I asked for Starlet, she ushered me in and called out for my sister. 

The Wind River Reservation is home to the Northern Arapaho and
the Eastern Shoshone tribes, in the Central Western part of Wyoming,
west of Casper. Just to the Northwest of the reservation is the Eastern
border of Yellowstone National Park. 

As Starlet got up from her bed in the back bedroom, a chair was cleared for me and I had a chance to meet new relatives - Auntie Diane and her daughter and grandchildren who had come over from Wyoming - Wind River Arapaho. I remembered Grandma mentioning them a long time ago, but had never had the chance to meet them before. As I introduced myself, Starlet came down the short hallway and I had to jump up and give her a big hug (and get one in return, because she gives the BEST hugs). 

I didn't stay long, 15-20 minutes or so. I knew I would see them again at the memorial, but I had wanted to see my sister Starlet. I hadn't seen her since I sat next to her in the family row at Grandmother's memorial, although we always exchange holiday cards. She had retired from her job almost a year ago and told me she was enjoying retirement. She and I talked to Auntie Diane about when I would come up from the Cities and I would sit with Grandma Zona and Cousin Ben and we would all bead together. We looked at family photos on the wall and shared memories - good ones. After getting another hug, I shook hands with everyone and left for the gymnasium. 

Tipis are a traditional Sioux home - very portable, easy to
set up, warm in the winter, but cool in the summer. My brother's
tipi was painted with the handprints of many people all
around up as far as I could reach. All of the people who he
had helped over the years at Ceremony or in life. 

It was still early when I parked at the school. There were only 20-30 people scattered in the gym, and Lisa had been given the overnight family member duty. I had lots of time to look over the photos and storyboards of my brother, as well as enter the tipi to view his body and talk to him for a bit. It hurt, seeing him there, dressed in his ceremonial buckskins on a bed of buffalo hides with his dance regalia on tipi stands behind him. We had a difficult relationship, but I loved him and he loved me. That I never doubted, despite the problems over the years. I had learned a tremendous amount from him over the years and my life would have been radically different if I had never met my brother. 

I exited the tipi, finished looking at the photographs and memories, shook Lisa's hand and gave her a hug. We shared the experience of being the overnight person, since I had done that for Grandma Zona while Starlet and Pete returned home to get some some sleep. It's a hard thing to do - that overnight family vigil. After a short chat, I went in back for a cup of coffee and seated myself on the bleachers once again, this time on the opposite side of the gym. A man sat down on my right - the same person who had been at me left the night before - David Snowball. We started talking about Floyd and about where he was living, in southern Wisconsin. It was really lovely to talk with him a bit, get a bit of his life story. 

After my sister Maja and her companion Solo arrived a while later, I moved over to a folding chair on the main floor. It was almost time to get things going once more and we knew we wanted a bit of room to move. 

Well, it looks like this will be a four-day recitation after all. It's OK. I'm getting a chance to put things down in writing to share with all of you, and I'm also getting the opportunity to shed a few more tears which is not a bad thing either. Tomorrow's post should bring me through the ceremonies and the actual burial, at least that's the goal. Have a great Wednesday and I'll be back tomorrow. 

Floyd's Memorial - Friday Night

After checking in to my hotel room and pulling on a long skirt, I jumped back into my personal buffalo and headed to Pine Ridge, South Dakota. I didn't have a plan, just thought I'd meet up with Maja and Solo if they were still there. Where is there? There, in this case, was the Middle School Gymnasium. It was a bit smaller than the High School Gymnasium, where Grandma had her memorial service in 2001, but it was in the same educational complex. Despite not having been in the Rez since Grandma Zona passed, I still remembered the roads to take and drove up without problems, parking and entering the building. 

Inside, my Lekshi, Scotty Brown Eyes, was at the microphone. Tradition dictates a series of invited speakers, and then an open mike all night so that whoever wants to share a memory or anecdote can get up and share with the Oyate (the People). During busier times of the day, there is usually a loose agenda. Scotty was acting as ringleader this time, introducing David Snowball from Southern Wisconsin, to speak and share his memories of my brother, Floyd. 

Late in his talk I noticed a tall, lanky Lakota man come in, a bundle cradled in his arm. He walked to the front row, taking a corner seat and shaking a few hands as he entered. He was Arvol Looking Horse, spiritual leader of the Lakota People and caretaker of the Sacred White Buffalo Calf bundle. After David was finished, Scotty introduced Arvol who shook out his double-layered eagle feather headdress, and after casually putting it on, walked to the front and began speaking. 

Chief Arvol Looking Horse, spiritual leader of the Lakota People and
caretaker of the Sacred White Buffalo Calf bundle came and spoke
at Floyd's memorial on Friday night. Arvol and I have crossed paths
many times over the past thirty+ years I've been involved with the
Lakota people. It's always an honor to meet him again. 

Arvol spoke for more than a half-hour in a combination of Lakota and English. He spoke about many things, but primarily about Floyd's work with the Treaty Council. The Sioux have been fighting to get their treaty rights for more than a century now. The people have never cashed in the money "paid" to them for the Black Hills because they never accepted that this foreign government had rights to "purchase" the land. According to the Treaty, large portions of North and South Dakota as well as some parts of Nebraska and Wyoming were Indian Land forever. Of course, that was before gold was found in the Black Hills, after which time the treaty became another piece of toilet paper - worthless. 

Chief Arvol Looking Horse wore his headdress when he addressed
the people at Floyd's memorial. It was to honor Floyd as a leader
of the people and one who dedicated his life to them. 

Arvol spoke about Floyd's work with the Treaty Council, as well as his work with the people as a spiritual leader and guide for the people. He spoke about the long history he shared with Floyd and the people of Pine Ridge, and led the people in a prayer at the end. After I resumed my seat on the lowest rise of the Western bleacher, near David Snowball, Arvol removed and rewrapped his headdress and walked down our side, shaking hands with the drummers and then with several men and, finally, with me, before leaving the gymnasium. It was an honor to see him again and to shake his hand. 

Shortly afterward I decided it would be wise to return to Chadron and get some sleep. My brother would be buried the next day and I knew it would be a hard and long day. I left, reversing my drive from earlier in the day. Almost as soon as I had passed the Reservation border, it started to rain. The rain turned heavier as I continued my one-hour drive, but it was the lightning that was so amazing. It was constant, and it lit up the skies all around me. Great forks of lightning, and light behind cloudbanks brightening whole sections of the sky. I knew my brother was dancing, celebrating being joined once more with his friends and relations. He was dancing his last dance in the sky and it was remarkable to see. The storm accompanied me almost all the way to the hotel, passing to my rear as I drove the final twenty miles or so. It was magic. 

The entire sky was as bright as day, on and off as I drove home. It was
like a cloud press conference with flash bulbs constantly going off.
It was amazing, and I just knew that Floyd was dancing with his
relations in the skies above me. It must have been a good drum, because
he was dancing hard in his yellow and black Champion Dancer outfit,
celebrating his life. 

I'll continue tomorrow, and the Saturday may end up taking two days of posts. Hard to say for sure. I'll put in what photos I can, but I didn't take photos of this trip - it would have been disrespectful, and I've been taught better than that. So, I'll put in what I can, but I will have to hope that my words will be enough picture for you, my readers. Have a wonderful Tuesday and be good to each other. I'll be back tomorrow. 

My Trip - Arriving in South Dakota

I'm back home, and I'm glad I went, even though I'll be paying off the bills for months and I missed my speech at the UMBS 20th Anniversary Luncheon. It's OK. It was worth it. 

On the way from Rapid City to Chadron, I passed Buffalo Gap
National Grasslands. Much of this area of South Dakota is
grasslands, but Buffalo Gap is one of two places I could have
turned east and passed through to get to Pine Ridge. I continued
on my highway, though. I was heading to Chadron, NE first. 

I had forgotten how beautiful South Dakota was in the late summer/early fall. It helped that we had wonderful weather, as you'll see while reading the rest of my trip over the next day or two. 

I was WAY early for my plane out because I had DH drop me off before work, but I was happy I wasn't in a rush. The TSA lines for security were long and even though they moved along at a good clip, it was still an hour in line to get cleared. Ick, but job well done. The agents were efficient and polite, but firm. MSP is an International Airport, so lots of people pass through it every day. It's not a sleepy regional airport like Rapid City's. The way back home yesterday was quite different - two people ahead of me in line and an easy and quick pass through security. 

My gate for my puddle-hopper was WAAAAY at the far end of the terminal, so I used the moving walkways to their full benefit. Later I discovered there was a tram available to take for free, but by then I was committed to the walk. I knew I had a long drive ahead when I arrived in South Dakota, so figured some exercise wouldn't be a bad thing. My sister Maja joined me at the airline gate after a couple of hours and we had a chance to catch up a bit - something sorely lacking since she moved out to Washington state. 

We weren't seated together for the flight, but that was OK. I read and looked out the window at the scenery. I enjoy flying, just am not fond of being stuck inside a tin can with a bunch of strangers. Still, as puddle-hopper planes go, it was OK. Various maintenance and need/necessity, had delayed our flight by almost two hours, so it was great to get into the air. 

As you can tell, this is not a "compact" car. This is a 2019 Toyota
Sienna, and it's what I drove on this trip. Since they charged me
what a compact would have cost, I was OK with it. That higher
ground clearance actually turned into a good thing. 

After renting our respective cars, we went out to the parking lot to discover that our two requested "compact" cars had morphed into large caravans. I had a 2019 Toyota Sienna, and I'm not sure exactly what Maja had, but they were both large beasts. The rental company was charging us the compact rate, so we shrugged our shoulders and headed out in large vans. It actually turned into a good thing on Saturday when I was driving out to the family cemetery and a bit earlier that day when I was driving to visit Starlet at her house. Roads in the Rez haven't improved, but I wasn't expecting that they would. 

Chadron NE is just south of that pink corner of Pine Ridge Reservation
in the lower left. To get to Pine Ridge, I drive east from Chadron,
then turn north, and pass through WhiteClay, Nebraska, passing
into Pine Ridge. WhiteClay used to be a town of four residents and
twelve liquor stores. The stores/bars are all all closed now - a victory
for the Oglala Sioux Tribe. 

Maja went straight to Pine Ridge to meet up with her companion, Solo, and get a hotel key from him. I decided to drive to Chadron, Nebraska first, check in, and then head over to Pine Ridge Village - an hour drive farther east and a bit north. Hotels for the Rez aren't close - Chadron or Rapid City are the choices, and either one is one hour or more away from Pine Ridge. But I loved the drive over - as I said in Paragraph One, I had forgotten how beautiful it is out there. I saw eagles - so many eagles, and buffalo, and pronghorn antelope. I also saw lots of cows - cows are a major cash crop out on the range. 

Out in the Great Plains, we have Golden Eagles. I saw
several floating nearby, as well as hawks playing in the
winds. The light was perfect late afternoon gold, and
the plains were fantastically open and beautiful. 

So ... so much to tell and I'm only on the road to check in to my hotel. I'll continue this tomorrow and bid all of you farewell for the day. I have to get back into my schedule and it's going to be a bit of a re-learning curve. Have a great Monday - I'll continue my saga tomorrow. 

Group Hug

I leave in a few hours, and of course my thoughts are all over the place. I'm making this short and sweet, because I'm not really focused right now. I just want to thank all of you who have reached out to me. I'll be pulling all of your positive thoughts and wishes around me like a warm blanket for the next two days. Thank you and I'll be back on Monday morning - tired, drained, and happy to be back home. *Hugs* to everyone and have a wonderful weekend. 

Flying Into the Sun - Just Watch Me Burn

Tomorrow DH will drop me off at the airport before he heads to the shop. I'll be in South Dakota by early afternoon, pick up my rental car and head southwest to Chadron, Nebraska, the closest town to Pine Ridge, South Dakota, that has hotels. I have a reservation there at a hotel and then will figure out my next steps. It's going to be a rough 24 hours, being pulled into the mess that will accompany my attendance at the wake and funeral of my brother. Family dynamics are always interesting. I'll fly back home on Sunday in the late morning. 

I feel as if I will be flying into the sun. The emotional tornado
I'll be walking into with eyes wide shut frightens me a bit. I don't
think I would be doing this at all if my sister Maja hadn't come into
town and if she wasn't going to be there at my side. 

DH remarked last night that I'll be seeing a lot of people I haven't seen for decades. True, that. It's rather intimidating in some respects. Emotions always tend to run high at gatherings like this, but I'll just have to focus hard on why I'm there and try to stay out of the emotional blackmail issues that are certain to crop up. 

I've been a box turtle for more than fifteen years now, staying
away from the Reservation since Grandmother's death in the
early 2000's. It's going to feel odd being back there once more.
I'm going to pull my "elder status" around me like a blanket. My
bald head will be my protection. 

Of course, I'm arriving back home too late to attend the event where I was scheduled as speaker on Sunday. It's unfortunate, because I had really been looking forward to speaking to the group. I phoned the other speaker yesterday and explained that I had a death in the family and had to miss my talk. She, graciously, offered to read my talk to the group if I email the text to her. It was very kind of her, and I'll get that text out to her today. 

It was extremely kind for the primary speaker to volunteer
to read my speech on my behalf. I'm taking her up on
her offer and will send her the text today. 

I'll pack tonight, catch a plane tomorrow, and return on Sunday, emotionally drained. One of my e-friends commented on yesterday's post that I should remember that I'm there for my brother - to focus on that while the maelstrom occurs around me. Great advice, and I'll be doing my very best to keep that focus. I owe this much to a man who meant a great deal to me. Attending his funeral will allow me to finally end that part of my life and move on to my next goals without baggage. It'll be good. 

I'll be leaving my emotional baggage behind
me on the Rez. I have a life ahead of me that
won't include visits back to Pine Ridge for any
foreseeable reason. 

So, I'll be back tomorrow with a post, but then I'll be on "radio silence" until Monday morning. Have a great day!