On Monday a soul departed from a family I care very much about. Although we knew for years this would happen, it is no less hard on the heart. As I prepare for this funeral I find that this is something I want to share because I find this such a beautiful aspect of my home-culture.
As much as people like to be hard on Californians, we have our own completely unique culture and ways of expression. Us 'coastals', we are water people. One's water choice might be a surf board or a wake board. Perhaps a paddle board, boogie board or kayak. And some just swim. Within each of these water 'mediums' you will find a subculture - lingo, ways of being. However, no matter the medium or method one embraces the water - the constant is: the great Pacific. The peaceful mother. The life that gives and the life that takes only to give again. The circle of life.
Thus when a loved one passes, we let go of the traditions of religion. It matters not if they were nothing or Muslim, Jewish or Buddhist, Catholic, Mormon or Christian. Instead, one morning, early, we - those who knew this soul silently gather on the sands. We put on our gear and ready for our collective venture into the ocean. Great care is given as flowers are handed out. We wear traditional Polynesian leis around our necks, hold flowers in our hands, behind our ears, in our hair. Every flower with it's own prayer. It's own blessing. It's own kiss.
There will be a leader. In this case the wife and her two almost adult children. We will wait on the wet sand to follow the family out to the deep with our hearts, flowers and souls.
There on the water, we gather together in a large circle. Everyone must be a part. Often the family will go into the center of the circle to form their own.
Depending on the wishes of the family we may all hold hands or hear a prayer or perhaps a poem. No matter how many people, it is always quiet - you hear the water and the words. You hear the tremble of loss in the voices speaking. Tears fall freely into the water. Souls unleash their sadness. The ashes of the person being honored may be put out to sea with final prayers. We lay our leis on the water. We throw our flowers out to the sea. Gifts to the departed soul and we ask the powers that may be that our loved one is greeted with the same love we give.
Then comes a time of celebration. We who have released our loved one will one by one, ride the waves back into shore. We will ride for hours. There will be a community of food, laughter, sandy toes. Stories. Ah the stories. Your soul will be moved. All too soon, the sun will start to set and it is time for the fires.
My favorite: The beach side bonfires. As the sun starts to fall into the sea, the drums will begin. Songs will be sung. We will speak the spoken word: Poetry as our friend so passionately did. There will be more tears. More remembering. And once the moon is high over us, with sweaters and sandy toes, it is time to release ourselves from the burden of sorrow and accept the gift of life. Each participant will reach the dream-time that eve and as I believe, commune with the soul one last time.
I am thankful for this heart that beats within me. One day whatever it is that I am here will end too.
But life - life never ends. Even when the sun sets, we know tomorrow it all begins again. Let me begin again while I can. Soon, this is the exact stretch of sea we will circle on. It will be beautiful.
And life will begin again. Aloha California. I love thee.
