Papaw

The hill was steep, but not too steep for the six-year-old Dina. Papaw brought her here last year and she was scared, but he reassured her that if she held onto the front of the sled and stayed firmly seated she’d glide safely to a stop in the snowy field below after an exhilarating ride.

Papaw was a big-word user, and delighted in explaining things. She asked him what exhilarating meant and he said “Fun with a cherry on top! Like life! Sometimes it scares us, and we know it has to end, but that’s no reason not to take the leap, little lady!”

Papaw taught her that the seasons turn, and all things were renewed by giving themselves back to nature.

He also told her of their culture's funerary rite: cremation of the body, and the scattering of the ashes to the wind.

"Will your ashes be food for the wind?" she asked.

Papaw laughed and pulled her in for a big hug. "Oh, I suppose so," he replied. "We burn up the real body to signal to our Sky God that our ethereal body is ready to pass holy, and wholly, into Heaven."

When he said holy, he made a sign of prayer. When he said wholly, he made a large circle with his hands.

"Do you really believe in that stuff, Papaw?"

"It doesn't matter. The rite is for the living, the grieving, and I know it will be a great comfort to your Mamaw."