Community

Overall, I don't really do well at funerals. This is especially true when I knew the person well. I've rarely cried over the last ten years, but that doesn't stop me from getting teary at some of the more moving funerals we've had.
The point of my post here is not to be depressing but to be the opposite. But after attending a funeral last week I really feel the urge to write this, as short as it will be. On observation I've made over the last two years is that we seem to be having more funerals. But on further thought, I doubt that we've had more funerals, but really that the services are getting more attention. Quite a few of them are held at our Tribal gymnasium, and others are St. Michaels. In my time on Council, the level of aquaintence I've had with many of these departed friends ranges from just that, aqcuiantence, to good friend.
I want to say that I am proud of how close-knit our Tribal community has become over the last few years. Nowhere is this more evident than when we all say good-bye to a fellow Tribal member or community resident. Funerals are events. People speak and remember fondly. They meet afterwards and feast together. Daily events are put on hold and large crowds amass to say good-bye, regardless of how well or not well they knew the departed.
It takes years to get to know everyone here in Grand Ronde, in fact I don't even know if such a thing is possible. But to what degree we know or don't know a person here, there is a bond and sense of community here that goes unspoken often. You see that bond when the community says good-bye. It is undeniable.
It reminds me of what a famous writer once said when describing in as few words as possible how life is in a small town. She did it perfectly in four words: You would be missed.