We were notified Friday (12/12/14) that Fannie had arrived in Goodnews. Saturday we were notified that the funeral would be Sunday at 2 pm. Autumn and I talked it over several times and waffled between going and staying. Saturday afternoon I had Mary (the Yute agent) put us on the first flight. If we waited for the second flight, we would be late because it would arrive here at 2 pm. Devin called and said he was changing his return flight, so he will go directly to GNU. He was in BET for STEM training and got weathered in and was returning Sunday.
Autumn came over to my house and waited. At 1 pm, a plane arrived. It was going to shuffle passengers over to GNU for the funeral. Myself and the Moyle Family were on the first flight and Autumn came on the second one, with John (our PM).
Ministers love to hear themselves talk. One of the things I like about Riverside Community Church is Pastor Ed breaks up his monologue with movie clips. Don't get me wrong--it was a wonderful service. There also was an elder, who during the remembrance talked longer than the pastor. I'm sure it was very wise advise, yet I will never know because it was all in Yupik. Ninety-five percent of the audience did understand him. You would think when the children are getting so loud, only you can hear what you are saying, and people get up and go outside for a break, that you would realize you have been talking to long.
The singing was fabulous. There were singles, couples, and huge groups of people singing. It was, for me, the best part of the ceremony. I even knew, at least the chorus, of a few songs.
At the end, there was a processional viewing. I did not join in. I have always preferred my last memories of a person be those of them alive. Not the cold, lifeless shell they left behind. I totally broke down watching her children during this process. It was agonizing. Loosing my mother late in life was difficult. I can't imagine what it is like for a 10 to 18 year old. I could see the agony in their faces and wept for them and their loss.
Then the pastor closed and locked the casket. The pallbearers picked it up, John stepped in even though he was not named as one, and walked out of the church. Frank carried her cross and followed everyone to the cemetery. I have never attended a grave site ceremony. The finality of this part of the ceremony struck me deeply. Watching it be lowered into the ground and everyone tossing dirt, in this case frozen dirt (so one could hear it hit), on top of the casket.
If one doesn't see the deceased body and does not attend the grave site ceremony, the person is still alive, in a sense. You can think of them as being away. When you see them being lowered into the ground and covered with earth, that memory will always remind you that they truly are gone.
Having not viewed her, even though I truly know she is gone, I will remember her the last day I saw her alive. We had, I felt, a talk that brought us together and team members in her children's education. I walked her out of the school. She was smiling and laughing, as she climbed on her ATV. She was going home to bead. She saw across the river three egrets (She thought they were swans.) and got very excited. As she drove off, she said she was going to get her uncle to shoot one, so they could have a traditional dinner that night. She was happy, laughing, smiling as she drove away. That's how I will remember her.
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