A beautiful day at Hugh’s farm for a memorial service, the day before Easter. Here and there, wild flowers were sprouting. I saw Hugh’s horse for the first time. He’s talked about it for years. There were 3 sheep, or goats, in the same pen with the horse. The place looked great. I worried about going to the bathroom. There was the outhouse, still there at a distance, but fortunately they brought in a couple of port-a-jons. Camping tents were everywhere, a big tent for dining, a huge teepee of giant logs to be set on fire later. Dogs and children ran around everywhere. A blue jeans affair. His kids know how to have a party.
Hugh wanted a celebration and that’s what he got. I’d say around a hundred people were there, some old friends I haven’t seen in ages. The eccentric priest friend, Jim Meyer, wearing some kind of scarf around his head and a wide brimmed hat started off the show. Also around his neck he wore the handwoven scarf that was made for Hugh’s and Sandy’s (Two-Moon’s) wedding. A bag pipe played in the distance. Jim had to speak sitting down, and carried a walker throughout the farm on the “pilgramage.”
He began by introducing all seven children, and explained that there were 7 stations set up around the farm, each one with a piece of Hugh’s artwork. Each one, from youngest to oldest would carry the urn from one station to the next, and read one of Hugh’s poems (I know them all). He offered the biblical meaning behind each child’s name: Joseph, Mara, Rachel, Daniel, Rebekah, Jacob, and Aaron. I can’t remember the meaning of each one, but it was nice and sometimes funny. All 7 kids looked perfect. Joseph started–I hadn’t seen him since a few days before Hugh’s death, and previous to that, had not seen any of them in forever. Joseph was only 10 or so, and is now 25 ish. Strange that that many years have gone by.
So Joseph started and his voice cracked after the first sentence, and he paused, and that was it. I came undone and tried to suck it in, but instead, Marilyn, a women from the club, put her arm around me and rubbed my back and I blubbered (she’d given me a valium earlier: I was shaking like a leaf all day. I felt so bad for the Joseph. He loved his dad. Joseph carried the urn to the next “station” and held it while Mara read another poem and then sang a song into the wind. I can’t remember the song, but I knew it. Lo and behold Marilyn starts rubbing on my shoulders again, Joseph and Jacob are tearing up, Mara sang her heart out, and I came unglued again. I sniffed too loud and didn’t have a Kleenex. I knew I had to get away from Marilyn. Joseph handed the urn to Mara, who carried it to the next station. The sculptures at each spot were terrific, and I remembered them all, but could not tell you now which one was at which station (by the way, all this time a pile of dogs are following and kids are playing in the dirt and fiddling with the sculptures and no one cared. It was lovely).
The urn: A phallic shape. Figures. I bet Hugh picked it out himself. Looked just like a penis. No shit.
Then Rachel. She read a poem. And no sooner did I break free from Marilyn then I saw Vito Kolbiz (sp), a long time friend of Hugh’s and mine too, sort of. He’d been sobbing a bit too; I hadn’t seen him in forever, and we hugged each other and both fell apart. Geez! Mara handed the urn to Rachel, and off we walked through the field and into the woods, some with canes –oh yes, Hugh’s older brother, who I also had never met; poor man stumbled along and cried. Jim Meyer pushed along with his walker.
Then Daniel. Another poem. Rachel handed the urn to Daniel. We kept walking. Then Rebekah. He also read a poem; they were all familiar, but I couldn’t tell you. Let’s see, by this time, we might have been at the place in the woods where Hugh wanted his ashes, I think, buried. A lovely stone piece was set up there, along with a smaller wooden piece. In between they set the urn, on a stump I think. Oh yes. Rebekah read a poem, handed the urn to Jacob. Jacob told the story about how he and Hugh had cut down this particular tree, either where the urn was sitting, or beside it. Then Jacob read a poem, handed the urn to Aaron, and set the small wooden sculpture on fire. Very cool. Hugh had done a series of “Burnt Offerings” he called them. I have one in my front yard now facing Lake Michigan Dr. Most of them were half burnt and put out. This one flamed till it was gone. The kids decided then to push some of the leaves out of the way from around the pedestal it was sitting on, and Rebekah joked about how this wouldn’t be the first time a Timlin started a forest fire in the woods.
I can’t remember if it was after the fire was out, or while it was burning that Aaron read “The road less traveled” or whatever it’s called (The Road Not Taken?) by Frost. Hugh’s favorite poem. I like it too. Hugh had read it to his children when they were little.
At that point, a piece of white cloth was laid over the urn by Hugh’s brother. He read something, maybe a verse. I think Jim Meyer read one too. Jim explained how Hugh wanted to be buried by the something-or-other tradition, in which the body is wrapped naked in a white material (muslin?) and buried in the ground (he explained this too me the week before he died). They couldn’t work that one out, so they covered the urn in the white cloth.
After that, they broke out seven goblets that Hugh had made, also used at his wedding. They pulled out a couple of baskets of homemade bread and every one passed around the bread, broke off a piece and passed it on. Someone walked around with the wine, and some folks took a sip. I like how it was so non-traditionally Catholic, artsy, and poetic. Hugh would have loved the whole damn thing and the party that followed.
I hung out for a while, snuck a cup of beer, sort of, and by then was loopy from valuim and beer. A lovely day for a picnic. More dogs running, kids playing, and a band under the tent. Before I left they set the teepee of logs on fire. The kids (not kids at all, between the ages of 24 and almost 40) all seemed to have a good time, though some of them had tear-stained faces (mostly Joseph and I think Jacob). They all seemed to have a good time.
I left around 5, the party was planned to continue throughout the night, with lots of people staying and camping.
I found out from Mara that Hugh know “As I Lay Dying” was by his bedside! That was my obsession before he died. He got it, along with his bread making book. Just in time!
So today is Easter.
pic of burning sculpture:
http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/photo.php?pid=1668477&o=all&op=1&view=all&subj=60643479677&aid=-1&id=653568526&oid=60643479677
