She's my friend, I have to go...

My friend Joan is the chief operating officer of a local Girl Scout council. The receptionist at the council is named Jan. I have been talking to Jan for the past twenty years, since every time I call, there she is. Joan told me that Jan’s mom passed away this week and the wake was to be held at a funeral home a few blocks from our house. No one likes attending wakes, at least I don't think so, but it's a fact of life as you get older. Kathy didn't see why I should go, but I could hardly stay home since it was so close I could practically walk there. I decided to go. Jan’s mom was part Cherokee, so they were having an Indian drumming ceremony as part of the wake. Before the ceremony, Jan’s sister was to sing “Amazing Grace” so I knew this would be no ordinary wake.

When I got to the funeral home, I saw Jan right away. She is fifty-ish, short and stocky I guess you’d call her. She has had a hard life somewhat, with a (mostly absent) alcoholic father. Her younger son died from leukemia some years ago. She is very friendly and pleasant, thus she makes a great receptionist. She also loves to talk, so that fits. I went up to her and said, “Jan, I didn’t know you were a double minority.” She smiled and looked a little puzzled as I went on, “You’re cute and you’re Native American.”

She was pleased.

Her sister has a beautiful voice and did very well with Amazing Grace. You almost felt you should applaud, but we restrained ourselves.

The drumming ceremony was interesting. Three men and one woman made up the drumming troupe. Two of the men looked they were in their late twenties, early thirties, and one in his forties or so. They had long ponytails, which added authenticity. The woman, probably thirty-something with her two young daughters sitting near her, wore a cloak with fringed with ribbons. The men sat around one big drum, each one using a drum stick that kind of looked like a cattail. The woman stood to the side and participated in the chanting from time to time. They did four songs (for North, East, South and West) and then one more that I’m not sure about. Some people talked softly as the drumming went on, some sat quietly. I was in the latter group, thinking about how this culture was driven to extinction, beginning with Plymouth Rock.

Jan was inspired by the ceremony, declaring that she would start going to powwows, and getting deeper into her heritage. Her mom apparently kept the kids in touch with the culture while they were growing up, and Jan wants to keep it going.

Oh, one last detail: it was an open casket wake, featuring Jan’s mom wearing the robe and slippers that she never got a chance to wear when she was alive.