The drum began its deep throb, quietly at first

At the graveyard, the drum began its deep throb quietly at first then building to a strong crescendo that ran over the prairies. It filled every crevice and slid through the trees bare of leaves. Winston's beautiful voice rang out calling Spirits to help our brother home. He sang to the ones who have gone before us so they may meet the man called Randy and help him cross this last barren stretch. He held the drum high to Father Sky and asked to help us, his earthly children and those left grieving for his life. His voice covered the Mother who lay sleeping in her whiteness. "Go home son; go home where there is love; go with the love of your earthly people; go with the love of your earthly mother who even now cries from the deepest part that began the birth of your being; go across the sky; go beyond this place and rest in your home on high".

I heard this in my being and I was humbled to have this man, my cousin, do the honoring ceremony for us. His words comforted us and he said, "All will heal with the drum, for it is the heartbeat of this nation and our beginnings".

The 60 degree windshield factor couldn't compare to he frozen state of mourning i saw in the eyes of my siblings. "Randy, let the love we have for each other be what helps us now,"

I prayed.

They lowered him into the opening of the earth. We threw frozen earth down so, once more, Mother Earth would cover him on the prairies, much like the fine silt she swept over him at the bottom of a cold clear lake. I knew that this was the right way for us to send him home. This is what we have done from the beginning of Indian Time.

We gathered in the church basement to eat and talk and take strength from each other. My siblings and I grouped up to take pictures, naturally leaving a spot where Randy would have stood. We have never been minus one, so we didn't know what to do or how to be. For a moment there was silence and the loss made visible by the empty space. We closed the gap and held each other tight. While hanging on, we knew this is how it would be until SPIRIT CALLS.

Leaving was painful. Everyone came and held us and said good by to a man they said was too young to die.

ALL MY RELATIONS

These are my memories of it. The pain as I write is still there in the Randy part. I am able to do this now, because I am no longer in this picture. I stand and watch it from time to time. Often when a big blue 18 wheeler passes me, I see him at the wheel waving and happy. I hear him in a crowded coffee shop filled with boisterous truckers. I hear him on the wind. I see his light in heaven whenever I sit on an open prairie, or in the quiet of my home by the Sea of Cortez. If I look towards the star blanketed skies he is there twinkling. Sometimes he is the wind U TEN ACH CHIMOO. It sings to me the song of long ago when he was here and he sang THE MUFFIN MAN.
I will always remember this, his last words to me, "This is how it is. I love you and I will always be with you".

Randy, my baby brother, loves Chalen Ewing who is MORNINGSTAR WOMAN.