The last few weeks have been taking a relatively huge toll in the lives of my friends — literally. I recently found out about two of them passing away. Death comes to us all whether we are housed or not. Just the facts, Jack.
What doesn’t happen all the time and what came as a shock to me was the kindness and generosity of spirit that I witnessed from the Native American Youth and Family Center, also known as NAYA, an organization we all should be familiar with because they rock the house.
Let me explain. One of the friends that I just mentioned was half Cherokee, not enrolled and unhoused — a combination that is often grounds for a really good brush off: the I-don’t-know-them-and-don’t-want-to-be-bothered conversation. I was therefore not prepared for the warm respect and genuine concern I was met with on the phone with NAYA. Frankly it came as a shock.
Look, here’s the thing. I am a Celt, so while I know my own traditions, I am unfamiliar with Cherokee or Lakota traditions and was unsure of how to honor my friend without stepping on or disrespecting anyone else’s traditions. Both of my friends were fiercely proud to be first nation, the difference being that Buffalo had family in the area to help him, and I didn’t know whether River did, so I focused on her first. I thought it best to try, if we could, to honor her in this way, so I called NAYA.
I was delighted to witness Ellen at Naya’s efforts on behalf of a woman she never met. That impressed me. I didn’t have any of the information I needed to make things simple for Ellen to help me in this case, but she helped me anyway. For instance, I didn’t know what clan River was from or whether she had relations in the area, or even if she was enrolled or not. But in return for my outright ignorance what I got was genuine concern and honest effort. Ellen called the Cherokee Reservation in Oklahoma and brought back to the table a way for us to honor River without disrespecting or stepping on anyone’s toes. I think these are a bunch of seriously cool people who are very good at what they do, and I cannot thank them enough for their efforts.
River did get honored in a way that was appropriate and right. And as for Buffalo, in my family, we honor people with prose, so that is how I honored him. He was lucky in that he had family to send him on his way when he passed, and I am glad for that.
As for me, I have to do this for him because of what he did for me, which was to be a supportive, respectful friend to me when I desperately needed one. You see, when I moved back to Portland, I was straight off the WindRiver Reservation out of Wyoming. Portland re-entry came as a shock to my system, but Buffalo was always there to help me. He was for most people. And trust this: he will be very missed in all the communities he graced.
Before you read this let me first explain. I do not know this man’s real name. I only know the name he went by; Buffalo. I call him this because he was all these things. He passed about four months ago, but nobody thought to mention it. That’s how it often goes out here, but that doesn’t mean we love people any less. It’s just how that goes.
This one’s for Buffalo right here, right now.
Buffalo soldier man’s lament
by julie mccurdy
how is it
that your loss
has
left me
without the words
to wrap around
my grief?
Its left me
naked
in the wind
without words
soundless savage grief
I howl into the wind
like a demented thing
howling into the aching void
without sound
to soothe me
heaving, roiling, boiling
like a sudden thunderstorm
across those plains
you were
my reminder
on the days that
I came close
to forgetting
all about the
creators concern
BUFFALO
where did you run to?
where have you been?
I can’t feel you here
in the winds carress
you were my reminder
that the dirt from the rez
stays
in the souls
of our feet
and carries us home
when the time comes
where are you?
I cry out
with frantic childlike tears
bereft of understanding
I feel
the same way I did
way back when
I found out
santa
only belonged to
people without cash flow problems
fuck
I am a selfish beast
to crave the peace of your presence so
proud-fierce-soft as a kitten gentle soul
Lakota Warrior
vietnam vet
grandfather
father
husband
sinner
saint
friend
you were all these things
to all these people
and the world is less
without your own dear self ‘
in it
then it was
before you left
I can’t
figure out
how
we will go on without you
tender grin
but
I know that peace
will find you
in the love you sent around you
in the memories
you gifted us with
no more pain brother man
no more solace
in the bottle
ain’t no need in where your goin’
only in
the where you beens
so fly across the desert
to the great plains
drift in the wind
let our tears remind you
that the rez
is still
in
the souls of our feet
waiting
to let us
back
in