I’ve been so heavy-hearted all week long because of Dan’s death. None of it makes sense to me… why this happens to someone like him, to someone like his wife, Patty, to “someones” like his precious little babies. Healthy 30-somethings just don’t lay down on a couch one night and never wake up again. It’s not right.
And Dan and Patty… they were one of “those” couples – the really good ones. They complimented each other so well. He was a fierce defender of hers. She’s always spoken so highly of him. It’s so cliche, but I’m confident that they lived more in their few years together than most couples live their whole lives.
I left work early yesterday with a pounding headache. I just. feel. so. bad. Not for myself… I just feel for Patty. We’re of the age where we are supposed to be celebrating births and weddings and birthdays. We’re not supposed to be burying our husbands. I’m mad as hell that she has to do this.
I went to the first night of viewing tonight. It started off a bit shaky. I talked to Dan’s dad for a while – a big hulk of a man. In mid-sentence he broke down in tears as a CD player started to play a lullaby that Dan had recorded for his son.
But then I had a chance to sit with Patty for a while. She spoke of the many blessings she felt and how she knew that everything happened for a reason. She said she’d never know how many blessings came from Dan’s death – from the 65 people that were helped by his various organ donations, to the couples that hugged each other a little tighter that night, to the friends that hadn’t spoken to each other in years and were gathered there tonight. She even said, “This is going to bring us closer together. That’s another blessing.”
Yes… yes, it is.
I know there are many hard nights and days ahead for Patty. And I know that there is only so much that any of us can do for her, no matter how well-intentioned. But I feel somehow relieved tonight having been reminded that she’s one of the special people in this world that can find blessings in the midst of a real tragedy.
Dan was Ojibwa. His wake and funeral is being presided over by an Ojibwa elder. Tonight the elder said prayers at sunset and invited anyone who wanted to take part in smoking a pipe. I joined the women’s circle and shared a pipe with Patty, her mother-in-law and a few other women.
Also as part of Ojibwa tradition, a fire is being burned for four days after Dan’s death. (Patty didn’t have time to explain it, but from what I read, it is believed that the soul of the deceased travels westward for four days.) The fire should be burning in front of Dan’s body, but as it’s not possible, one is being burned for him up north and another in North Dakota right now.
Lastly, for tonight, I’ll leave you with this… a letter that Dan’s parents wrote to everyone tonight and handed out at the wake.
“I wanted to speak these words but the great sadness in my heart won’t let me without tears from eyes.
Our son’s spirit has moved on. So has his body started on its journey. His eyes are helping other human beings see the trees, the sky, rain drops, sunbeams… maybe for the first time. What could be used from his heart has gone to other human beings so that they may have the love of life for a little longer. His bones and bone marrow have been put to use to help others in need. Even his skin has been given to others to help protect their flesh so they can go outside and feel the wind and rain on their new skin. As we too will walk in the rain and see the new life in the spring. Dan will be there. His ashes will help give life to the trees and grass and rain forever.
We will always be reminded of Drum Spirit, as the harmony of life on earth goes on, in the soft whisper of the breeze or the howling of the wind, the crash of the thunder, the songs of birds, the soft babble of a brook, the drumming of the partridge wing, and forever in the beating of our own hearts.
May Creator’s need to call Dan home be greater than the hole left in our lives and may we be comforted in our sorrow.
It was planned to make Drum Spirit a Chief, a leader of his people, in the summer of 2008. This would have made the ninth consecutive generation of leaders in his family. As an organ donor, even after death he was able to help 65 other people.”
