Into the second year

Yesterday afternoon from 3.00-4.30, we remembered Naomi as we marked the first year of her death (3.20 pm). In the Native American tradition we observed, she is now free, and we are free to speak her name again. In the Christian tradition, she has been a member of the Communion of Saints from the get-go. And so we blended Christian imagery in the blessing and sprinkling of water, the water of baptism and of life and resurrection, on the herb garden where her marker will go (we had hoped to set the marker yesterday on the one-year date but it was not finished), on the gathered people, we passed the peace pipe, we sang the mourning song we sang a year ago as we entered the church, we spoke those things we wanted to say to Naomi, we danced to mark the end of a year of sadness and welcome new joy, even though the grief will always be there, and Naomi's parents gave away favourite things of Naomi to those gathered, the start of a different type of letting go.


Before the ceremony, Naomi's aunt laid out these symbolic things: a coyote pelt (for wisdom) under the tortoise shell containing Naomi's ashes, stakes representing the four compass points, a stake on either side of the tortoise shell representing heaven and earth; tobacco for the pipe ceremony; sage for the initial smudging of the space and people gathered; herbs to offer at the end of the ritual.


After the ceremony came photo time (this family documents everything). Naomi's aunt is to the left, and her mother to the right. I am wearing a shawl Naomi was given at a gathering of the community — I wanted to wear it in lieu of a stole. In my hand is her first Scrabble game board. She took it with her to college and judging from the tattered state of the box, she used it a lot. I am honoured to have it. Maybe using it will actually help me win on occasion.


And here is crazy Mr Gifford a year later. He is a big leggy boy.