Medicine Bag

It is a rainy day and I am lost in thought about the events that transpired after my brother passed away. We were in shock and everyday moved in slow motion. Every decision was carefully approved with all the family members. We agreed on cremation, we agreed on the funeral home, we agreed on the flowers, candles, officinating reverand. We agreed that we suffered a great loss. He was a brother to many and a friend to all.

The day of his service more people than ever imagined showed to pay their final respects. It was a beautiful service and his two kids held up better than the adults.
After the service they went around to blow out candles and some attendee's stayed to pick up momento's, pictures, a flower .

I heard someone yell " FIRE " ! I looked up and the backwall of the funeral home had curtains now emblazened with with an eerie glow of flames. Men running around trying to control the blaze. It was chao's. In the midst of it my brothers son calmly walked up to me and said " I guess he showed us for burning him". I couldnt help but laugh a strange hysterical laugh. It did not end there.

The flame was contained and the only damage done was the curtain but my brother did not have his final appearance. My grief was consuming me. Now the aftermath of losing my brother, my friend, my source of strength, part of my identity. No one could deal with me.  I could not deal with me.

His belongings were given away, donated or boxed and I recieved his " medicine bag ". A medicine bag is filled with things that make you happy, cherished items, pictures, rocks, sources of strength and usually given away when the owner knows they are going to " Other Side Camp ".  In this case it was a sudden death and no one had time to catch their breath or even prepare in any way for his demise. So I began my enlightened journey on what to do with it, as I was not the rightful owner.

I inquired with several Native American's who either did not know, as the old ways were lost through years of deprogramming by the " civilized " way or they just looked at me like I was a nut . However I did find an Apache that sat and talked with me, sharing his spiritual experiences, and comforting me in my loss. We concurred that on a full moon it would be burned also. This ensured his spirit soaring to Father Sky.

I waited for the full moon and walked to what I felt was a Power Place and proceeded to carefully erect a colorful firepit made of beautiful rocks, different kinds of wood and of course his medicine bag . It was a beautiful evening. Not a cloud in the sky and the stars seemed closer than usual. The only sound was the fire crackling and there I set his medicine bag into the  fire for the final ritual to set my brothers spirit free.

The beautiful blue hues danced in the flames, orange fingers licked at skin. I watched the colors for a few minutes breathing shallow breaths of grief. There was movement coming out of the flames and appearing was a Lizard. Yes a lizard. He looked right at me and came to sit with me by the fire . I was wide-eyed and in disbelief. That Lizard sat next to me for a few minutes and then he tipped his head and went into the starry night. It was an amazing experience. Trying to capture my composure was useless, I heard gutteral noises come from my throat and weeped uncontrollably, the little Lizard came back and waited a moment, then he permanently disappeared into the night.