Death of a Human Soul

Death is somewhat unfamiliar to me. While I’ve lost people very dear to me, I’ve been to less funerals than I can count on one hand. I’ve never experienced the loss of a close friend or family member, let alone a pet I was incredibly attached too. I’ve often questioned death as I questioned my spirituality as a child, and as an adult (and non-believer) it’s something I’ve put hours of thought in to. Obviously, there are scientific reasons why death is technically painless, but why is it that we’re so afraid of it?
Today, I attended the funeral of a man whom I did not know. He was a man who many people depended on and cared for. He had a lot of friends- hundreds of them, in fact. He worked hard, believed in God, did good things in the community, and lost every physiological need that most human lives can even fathom. This man was a resident at the Homeless shelter I do pro-bono PR for. When he passed I received an email from our shelter director within hours, expressing her pain that the local newspaper had reported on his passing but decided to use the word ‘transient’, which is a frequently known derogatory term in the field I work for. ‘This man was anything but a transient…” she said in her email.
I attended his memorial service today. Partly because I am a part of the community of this shelter, and partly because I believe he (and the other shelter residents) needed support at this dedication held at the Sanctuary he called home.

As we stood in a big circle in the parking lot of this over crowded downtown shelter, my emotions overwhelmed me. Volunteers, residents, members of the Faith community, and even board members locked hand in hand to share stories of this man, who had touched many of the lives of these people. All mourned in his passing, remembering all the good things he had done in the community, and many praised that he was now in a better place- where housing, homelessness, and health were no longer a premise of his day.

I believe death is one of the most common shared human experiences. Loss, especially death, is one that every person must face at some time. And we’re all scared as hell for it to find us. “Death is as much a part of life as anything else” said my wise best friend, who held hands with a six foot, scraggy man who had a cigarette in his other hand- all without fear, or judgement. We both smiled at the toddler with a fresh-blueberry face, who has no concept of the stigma homeless people carry upon them.
C. is on her 10^th funeral, including those very much a part of her life.  She’s right, in that death is a part of every human life at some time or another.

Done by a Sanctuary resident.

“He was a human soul,” said one of the residents about the man who we honored. It was  a simple saying with much meaning today. I’m honored to be a part of the memorial of a man who people loved and relied on- even when the majority of the Boise community and media outlets incorrectly identified him as a “transient”, which really means :

tran·sient   [tran-shuhnt, -zhuhnt, -zee-uhnt]  

adjective

1. not lasting, enduring, or permanent; transitory.

2. lasting only a short time; existing briefly; temporary: transient authority.

So, in a reality of things- we’re all transients. Why does running away from death feel so natural, when really, death can be no more scary or hard than this life we all live? 

Directionally Challenged.

When I was a little girl, my father forced me into hiking. I loathed it as a child and young teen. In fact, my father still references that it was more “death march-y” than hiking. However, in my past few years of adulthood I’ve really come to love it.

I don’t know if it’s the combined exercise endorphins and dopamine release along with the smell of mountain air and the sound of nothing…or if it’s just that I never really hated it at all, but had to keep up some dramatic excuse to be a lazy youngin’. Regardless, I now long for those cold nights in a sleeping bag followed by a challenging hike to some far away mountainous place.

C., N., and I jumped at weekend opportunity for two nights of camping, hot springs, and white water rafting. While I discovered and explored on many new aspects of myself during this weekend, some tended to shine “brighter” than others.

First, I discovered (or….admitted) to being directionally challenged. And whether she’ll divulge it or not, C. definitely does NOT help this disorder.

Me: “Okay, so what’s the road we’re looking for?”

C. “Highway 494”.

20 minutes later

Me: “Wait, what highway? 297?”

C. “I think it’s 427. Yeah! 427.”

N. frustrated

All in all, we mostly found where we were going.

It turns out wildfires had wiped out most of our hot spring destinations. But, a quiet, cool night in the mountain air, accompanied by a diamond sky (seriously….I forgot what it really looks like) definitely trumped out hot-springs let down.

After N. set C. and I directionally straight, we found “Molly’s Hot Spring”, which was a short walk across an abandoned bridge and scaling up the side of the mountain…in the middle of a burnt forest. It was charming, cute…and we were pretty happy we found something.

Lesson Two: Cooking eggs in the forest? No problem! We successfully steamed eggs in a bag!!! Not everyone knows this trick, so I’ll share with everyone compliments to my big brother Ry!

All you’ll need is:

-Something to boil hot water in (even a small propane camp stove will work.)

-Freezer zip-lock bags

-Eggs, Cheese, Ham, Peppers, Onions (or really, whatever you want.)

Put the eggs and your sides into the ziplock bag and seal out all the air. Put in the pot of boiling water, take it out every few minutes to let out the steam and squish the eggs around with your hands. After about eight minutes of doing this, you should have perfect steamed eggs. A great protein to start off any mountain adventure!!!

Lesson 3: Patience doesn't come easily to me....especially when blood sucking creatures are involved. Okay, growing up in Wyoming I am pretty used to those pesky little creatures. Granted we get them less in Idaho, I still feel as though I’m a pretty tough cookie when it comes to things like this. But this camp…..was terrible. We were literally slapping every place on my body, murdering tens at a time. If only murdering that many would have made the slightest difference.

Bug spray, smoke, moving around…NOTHING was working.

The solution? Throw your tent (sleeping bags and all) into the car and get the hell out.

Just a few short miles up the road, I found the spot we were originally looking for (remember that whole ‘directionally challenged’ thing?....) and it had 1/100^th of the mosquitos from Death-Camp.

 Us making freezer bag steamed eggs with my Primus campstove! 

 A meadow in Payette National Forest

N. and C. at Molly's hot springs!

All in all, a weekend sleeping on the hard ground and eating zip-locked eggs was pretty awesome. Topped off with a white water excursion down the Cobarton River with a few extended “framily” members.

It’s the stories like this I’ll want to remember forever.