Goodbye, Warren Matumeak - part 1: A gathering at his house

I am a couple of days behind, but I will pick up where I left off and try to catch up by the weekend. As friends and readers know, I had come to Barrow for the funeral of Warren Matumeak, a good man. He was buried yesterday following a funeral that, despite the bitter pain of loss, was truly beautiful and sweet. How could it have been otherwise, given the beautiful and productive life that Warren lived?

Despite the fact that the sun has not risen since November 18 and will not rise again until January 22, by Monday noon, shortly after I arrived in Barrow, the southern sky was aglow with that soft combination of dusk and twilight that exists only in the polar latitudes.

I set out to walk to the Matumeak home, and soon came upon Max Ahgeak's umiak frame, where it awaits the spring. Beyond it were two graveyards, a small, family, one on this side of the middle lagoon and the large community cemetery, where Warren would be buried, on the other.

I stopped to take this picture. It did not dawn on me until later that the brightly lit spot across the lagoon, just over the middle of the crosses to left, was where family and friends were just now finishing up the hard task of digging Warren's grave in the Barrow permafrost.

I was hungry when I arrived, but was quickly offered hot soup, frozen whale meat, maktak, and hot dogs. I partook of it all and it was all good. Sitting across from me was Josie Kaleak and her daughter, Michelle.

Ora Elavgak and her son, Asa, soon sat down with us.

Darlene Kagak, one of Warren's daughters, sat down at the table to look through recent pictures of her father on her iPhone in the hope that they could find a good one for the bulletin. She was joined by her sister, Alice, her husband Jacob and Warren's granddaughter-in-law, Nancy Akpik with baby Carly.

Soon, the friends and family who had just completed digging the grave began to arrive. They had been working in - 20 F. weather with a strong wind blowing. They were hungry and ready to warm up. Darlene received a hug from her nephew, Sakeagak.

And another hug from her nephew, John Titus.

As those who had been digging the grave sat down to eat, Darleen hugged her brother, Peter Matumeak. 

Knowing that her father could use a hot cup of tea, Warren's greatgrandaughter, Carly, brought a hot thermos to dad Tommy Akpik.

However hard it may be,many things must be done before a loved one can be buried. Alice showed two poems that the family planned to put in the bulletin for Warren's funeral. One was a poem dedicated to Warren, the grandfather - "Aapa" - the other to Warren, the Dad.

The house was filled with gospel music, brought into it through a recording of the Native Musicale, a celebration of Gospel music that takes place in Anchorage every year in late February-early March. I do not know what year the recording was from, but many of older the performers featured in it have passed on themselves and some of the children singers are now adults, so it was awhile back.

As people visited, I noticed a beautiful cloud beyond the window, backlit by the dusk/twilight.

I stepped onto Warren's porch to take a picture of that cloud. Many people have the idea that once the sun goes down for the season, it is pitch dark here all the time.

As you can see, that is not true. Sometimes, a full moon will appear and the northern lights will glimmer, glow and dance in the sky.

I have not yet seen the lights this season, but have heard reports of them.

Warren's youngest daughter, Annie Luafulu, cradles her baby, Theresa Luafulu.

Darlene found a picture of her father for the bulletin cover, and another of her father and late mother, Martha.

Jacob thanked all those who had dug the grave, and those who had helped in many other ways.

Having had almost no sleep the night before, and very little for the previous painful weeks, I was extremely tired. Jacob invited me to come next door to his and Darlene's house and to nap on the couch. I did, and dozed into and out of a sleep that I felt that I wanted to stay in forever.

Not long after I awoke, Jacob's daughter, Nancy Grant, who lives with her husband in Oregon, came in. She and her dad exchanged hugs as they spoke of their love for Warren Matumeak, and for each other.

This story will continue, but it will take me some significant time to get the next part together. To give myself that time, I will keep this post into Thursday afternoon and will then put up a happy, quick and easy one covering a visit Santa Claus made to Barrow the other night. 

Then I will return and do my best to pay Warren the respect that he deserves.

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