Local Elders box

CITIZEN 

A memorial service is being held today for one of the region's most active cultural figures and one of the Lheidli T'enneh First Nation's most beloved elders.

Robert Frederick was born April 6, 1950, and died on May 4. A memorial service will be held today at 2 p.m. at Sacred Heart Cathedral. Following the service, he will be laid to rest in the Lheidli T'enneh Memorial Park. Following the interment, everyone is welcome to join the family at the House of Ancestors for a reception.

As a child, Frederick was subjected to five years of residential school at Lejac where the attempt was made to forcibly remove Aboriginal connection from all the students. In Frederick's case, he would spend his elder years building that back up, not only for Indigenous people but the broader community as well.

Frederick, along with his equally active wife Edie, was instrumental in developing and instructing a UNBC course in the making of traditional cottonwood dugout canoes. In this experiential course, the students were also exposed to stories, songs, language, fishing, and other traditional elements of Lheidli life while also producing the first cottonwood dugouts in, Frederick estimated, the previous 60 years.

Frederick was a member of the Lusilyoo Frog Clan and descendant of Letrick-Cho, according to one of the course's participants Jennifer Pighin, a celebrated local artist tighly connected to both Robert and Edie.

She and Dean Marsters, with consultation help from Brent Goertz, built Frederick's casket.

"He was solid to the core, funny and caring and so many other things," Pighin said.

"It will be hard to digest this loss as we lay his body to rest but I know his spirit is strong. The strongest souls seem to be needed elsewhere. I know they're all doing great things in their own ways and holding us all so close as we hold them."

Frederick's cultural influence was applied in a number of ways and locations around the territory.

Master carver Ron Sebastian noted that Frederick was part of the carving project on the doors of the Tourist Information Centre, for example.

In 2005, Frederick was key to the Indigenous programming at the Historic Huble Homestead. He was a leader in the construction of the Lheidli T'enneh Fish Camp exhibit there, close to where one had been in centuries previous.

"Robert was at the heart of that project, not only as one of the elders with whom we consulted, but as the carver of the dugout canoe that is still on display in the exhibit today," said Krystal Leason, executive director of the Huble Homestead/Giscome Portage Heritage Society. "From what I understand the canoe at Huble Homestead was the first one he led the carving of. He has, of course, done many since then and we are proud to have one of his pieces displayed at the historic site."

Leason said he and Edie were also closely consulted in 2011 on updating the fish camp display.

"I remember him patiently answering our questions and despite seeming quiet he had a great sense of humour," she said.

"Robert was a wonderful advocate for the Lheidli T'enneh's history and culture. He leaves an incredible legacy for his nation and we were fortunate to have learned from him."

2011 was also the year Frederick was commissioned to create a permanent art installation for the Spirit Gate Project alongside Veterans' Plaza at City Hall. He carved a dugout with the story of Astace And The Salmon that was replicated in fiberglass and mounted in front of City Hall with a bronze plaque for passersby to always see.

Tracy Caolgheros, CEO of Exploration Place Museum + Science Centre, said their institution, too, was indebted to Frederick.

"In a very practical way, Robert was instrumental in the development of the Hodul'eh-a : A Place of Learning Gallery at the Museum, but his impact on the deepening of the relationship between his people and the broader community goes so much further," Calogheros said.

"In a culture where history and knowledge is primarily oral, Robert was a compelling storyteller. He held the wisdom of his ancestors and shared it willingly with those who cared to listen. We are losing our region's elders but not before we have had the chance to know them, to hear them, to learn from their lives and experience. I am going to miss Robert Frederick. I had the privilege of laughing with him and listening to him. We have captured some of his love of life at The Exploration Place but never enough to replace his twinkling eyes. We mourn with his family, his friends and his nation. Snachailya."

His dugout canoes can be seen around the community, including one at UNBC in the First Nations Studies Department and another at Nusdeh Yoh Aboriginal Choice School.

There is a resurgence in learning Lheidli T'enneh culture by a younger generation numerous and motivated. Many of those traditions were nearly lost and some still in danger, thanks to colonial pressures to eradicate it. Frederick was one of the strongest bridges over that impasse to connect the new community with the old ways

I had not expected to see this in the park, I think that many people do not realize that this is still an active cemetary. Thanks to the family for providing me this picture so I could see the final picture of the box. I only consulted on the design. I had no involvement of the building as it was not neccary. It confirms my belief that my philsophy is "less is more". Just provide enough assistance so that people can connect with their own agency and actively engage in the instrumental process of grieving by the building of the box. Then in time this will become a personal and collective positive anchor when the family experiences struggle within their grief journey.

What a beautiful gathering and final resting spot. I didn't feel like it was appropriate to crash the gathering.

The organic nature of this box was expressed in the detail. Obviously created by a seasoned carpenter and much nicer than I could imagine as a "backyard wood butcher" 

What do you do when grief shows up as an uninvited guest?

This past couple of weeks my kite has been out flying high. One of the benefits of this experience internally is the creativity that flows during these times. I didn't have the voice to plan my first wedding, but this time round I have the unique opportunity to explore and express my ideas. Alli and I decided that we were not going to follow any specific traditions but allow things to flow organically. The theme of grief runs deep through this life celebration. Alli lost her mom to cancer, I lost Baxter to a MVI, and the farm where we are celebrating this event was previously owned by Nancy, who died this fall. (see older post on Can I interest you in the floor model) While some people would choose to sweep these realities under the rug, I realized that their spirits were going to be present regardless, and I didn't want to trip over the lumpy rug while I was dancing.

During this planning stage I have asked myself what it would look like if we invited these individuals and placed them in their rightful place. How does one do this and still maintain a festive celebratory event. (put the crisis counsellor/grief therapist/social worker in charge of your wedding planning of course) We did joke about placing urns on the table but this obviously does not provide the balance we were looking to achieve. Festive but honouring, respectful and tasteful. These are the words that are flowing through my mind as we explore the creation of a ritual that will be meaningful for all, and punctuate the beginning of our new lives together and the transitional point of my life of Job.

I am still awaiting some of these ideas to gell. I am putting it out to the universe and my network of peeps for input.

local elder gets simple pine box

https://www.princegeorgecitizen.com/news/local-news/community-mourns-loss-of-lheidli-t-enneh-elder-1.23837421

I only wish I had spent more time with this amazing man. I only had a very small role in the box as Dean was a very accomplished carpenter.

Bob's cowboy box

One day out of the blue I received a call from Bob. Apparently he had seen my box making article in the citizen a couple of years ago and he wanted me to build a box for him. He didn't just want any box, he loved the style of a 6 sided coffin or as I called it cowboy box (one you would see in an old western movie). If you live in north america this design has been coopted by the gothe or the halloween brand. It one lived in the UK, however, it is the most predominant design.     Bob knew what he wanted and felt that his dual purpose box could start with 3 shelves that would hold his stereo equipment.You see in addition to being a logger and a rancher, Bob, was also a musician. I have found that when people allow themselves to explore their creative nature, they get connected to their integrated self which includes their emotional side and their sense of spirituality. (I will share more about this in a future post when I explore the book by Julia Cameron called "the artists way")

When I spoke with Bob it was clear that he was the kind of guy that didn't mind getting his hands dirty. When I suggested that we build the box together, Bob loved the idea. Although he lived a couple of hours out of Prince George, he was commuting back and forth for his medical appointments. I had suggested having a couple of days to work on the project but when the time came, the weather intervened and I ended up doing the first day on my own. We then did the final assembly and rough finishing together. You could tell that Bob was excited to have the opportunity of working on his own box.

I told Bob that one day I desired to write a book and asked him if he minded having me record our conversation. He gave me his verbal consent and we went about building the box. What I realized in hindsight is that the act of recording the conversation created the opportunity for Bob to tell his story. I pressed record and the first thing Bob said to me is, "I had my first beer when I was 10 years old …"
Bob was reluctant to have his story focused on himself or his cancer narrative. He had chosen to tell me the very roots of his story,a place in which he explained his lengthy relationship with alcohol. You see in hindsight, the alcohol narrative defined how his story would end, but I am getting ahead of myself.  I felt honored to be in Bob's presence and to stand witness to his story and hear it from beginning to end. I only hope that by blogging about this experience and posting on facebook this story will find it's way back to some of Bob's family and friends.

Bob's story included the death of both his parents and how he moved back home to help out with their care. He told me of his dozen close calls in which he almost met his maker, but somehow survived. One of the purposes that his survival created was the opportunity to assist in their final years of life. He also told of the death of 2 of his siblings at the ages of 56. He talked about surviving the family curse the year that he turned 57. I was impressed with Bob's ability to express his vulnerability and express himself to someone that he just met. I guess that reaffirms by belief of the bridge that the building of a simple pine box creates. There was also time when the emotions started to flow and at these moments the natural tendency was to put ear protection on and start to use the power tools. This allowed the space to meditate on the feelings in a very introspective way. This is much more challenging to create this space within a counselling office, and I suspect that I could have never corralled Bob into this formal therapeutic space.

 At the end of the build, Bob was surprised when he told me how good he felt. I had told him that I did traditional grief counselling but he felt that this was much more beneficial and he suggested that everyone should have this opportunity to engage in such a process. I appreciated this endorsement although I already knew the truth about the transformative power of a simple pine box.

Winkel (How a box becomes a bridge)

March 14,2016

I met a friend a couple of days ago while working at the hospital. Her mother in law had just experienced a significant stoke. A few days later she called me and asked me if I could help them build a casket. You see, Alice had been around me long enough to hear about some of the stories of transforming grief by making a simple pine box(SPB). Her husband loved the idea of making a box for his mom but he needed some guidance and someone to bounce ideas off of. We connected and had coffee, I lent him some tools and off they went.

One of the first transformations they experienced is that their son, Kevin took charge of much of the work. You see we forget that although a few people are inundated with things to do, there are those around who have very little to do. Kevin sprang into action shoveling the deck of snow and setting up the canopy, creating a work space on their deck just outside of their living room.

The next transformation the SPB provided was buy in from the funeral celebrant. You see, the Winkel's didn't belong to a church community. When Eric was thinking about what his mom would have wanted, words like simple, humble, respectful came to mind. He felt that a Church would create the right setting for his mother's service. The problem was that it was the Easter long weekend and although Eric had attended a local church once, the staff didn't know him or the family.  Alice called the pastor up and was told that because they didn't have a connection to the Church he most likely wouldn't be able to perform the service. (ie. you are not part of our village) The pastor then asked to speak with Eric, and Alice said that he couldn't talk right now because he was outside working on the casket. The pastor changed his tune almost immediately and suggested that he come by the house that afternoon and talk further. I don't begrudge the hesitancy of the pastor, I suspect that they screen a lot of requests like this and due to the limited time, they usually turn down requests that don't originate within their congregations. When he heard about the SPB however, it piqued his interests and it created a spontaneous invitation into the village. (for more on this discussion see the post titled "no service by request".

Not only did the casket create the bridge of connection for the pastor but it continued to be the thread through out the service, guiding the narrative of the story. The pastor had suggested that in all his years doing this work, he had never come across a family who build their own casket. He talked about how people are so disconnected from death. So many people now a days chose to not have services, thinking that it will be too difficult to deal with all those messy emotions.

Alice later told me that this was the perspective that her mother shared, up until she heard about the building of the casket. Her mom had thought that she doesn't want her casket to be present at the funeral. It is just too difficult, the grand kids would have a tough time of it. She didn't see the benefit or purpose of having the body present. It seemed like an old custom that has outgrown it's usefulness.

I would suggest the opposite is true from my experience. I have seen what happens when families take charge of the caring of the dead from the beginning (usually with the acceptance of working on the box). Once the families take ownership of the process, it seems natural to include opportunity for themselves and others to make similar connections. I have seen families who would have never thought to have the SPB present at the service change their mind and include it. They also may chose to be present when cremation or burial occurs. I think this idea of "out of sight, out of mind" has infected our beliefs around ritual and mourning. There is the thought if we fast forward over the messy bits, we will somehow skip the difficult aspects of the death experience. 

One of the things I sometimes hear from family is that they don't have a lot of time. Why would they add another task onto the "to do list".  I find it interesting how we try and cram this ritual into a compressed time frame. It is usually because of pragmatic details of how long out of town family are going to be around. I do find however that sometimes once you commit to the building of a SPB, it will be squeezed into the margins of the things to do and over time it can take centre stage and guide the family into the activities that are important. I heard this when the family found themself at the crematorium and were wondering what to do next.

As Alice suggested, "we are white, we don't have rituals around this kind of stuff". When a family chooses to take part in the experience, there are periods of time that are punctuated, a vacuum is created and spontaneous ritual flows in. This is what occurred when friends of theirs gifted them with the sound of drumming, and the power of story telling.

A SPB can create safe space for reflection. Death can be one of the scariest things we will experience. To have the opportunity to engage with our hands and our heads in a meaningful way can move that energy from fear to creativity. It was also interesting to hear feedback from the Winkel's village once they exposed them to this new/old way of doing. There was not one negative comment and others felt that they wanted to include this tradition when they go. My heart is warm when I hear people participating in ritual in such a way that links the reality that someday all of us will get to the end of our time...

NO SERVICE BY REQUEST!!!

How do you know what you don't know?

Or, how do you make a decision based on what you don't want.

I hear the "so and so didn't want to have a service " all the time in my work as a hospital social worker. Sometimes I have the time and space to unpack this complex phrase. Today I would like to take the opportunity to explore this question in more depth and make some suggestions. 

Here are some of my thoughts why people don't want a service:

1.  I am not a suit and I don't want to embrace the Victorian experience of pomp and circumstances.

2.  I don't feel comfortable in a funeral home, where every time you turn around it costs another few hundred dollars. Unfortunately for many, especially those that don't know what their choices are, the death care industry can seem like a huge upsell. When the dust all settles you can't believe the final total of the cost of the funeral. It leaves you with a huge pit in your stomach and you feel guilted into making decisions you later regret.

3.  I am not part of a church, synagogue or temple. In these spiritual communities there is a central figure in whom you have known for years. You trust this person to take charge of your arrangements.

4.  I am a humble person and I don't want to make a big deal of my death. The flip side of this is people might feel insecure and are worried that no one will show up ... or even worse, they feel that someone how they are not worth the bother. I don't deserve ...

5.  I have never been to a funeral I enjoyed. This can mean you haven't attended a lot of funerals in your life, and the only time you "had to go" is when it was when someone in your inner circle has died. At this point it pushes you so beyond your comfort zone you are in  total dissociative haze and you think if you don't have a "gathering" you will protect those closest to you in having to go through that experience.

You see we no longer live in a village where we go to gatherings in our community. The old guy who lives on our street who dies a natural death after a long productive life. You may know him because of how he kept his front yard perfectly landscaped, or he was a master gardener and always shared some potatoes with your family in the fall.  In this type of Gemeinschaft community, relationship and connection are central and a funeral is just one of those rituals you take in.

Here are a few principle's that can guide us in exploring some options:

1.  It is not all about you. The real purpose of a gathering is to assist those around us to come together and create an opportunity of connection, Many people don't realize how much of their loved one's lives they don't have the opportunity to hear about. It is only in their death that people feel they are granted the permission to come together and share some of these stories.

2. You have noticed that I have replaced funeral with the word gathering. This gives us the opportunity to rethink and reframe this experience to customize it to reflect our own personality and circumstances. I would recommend that unless you have lots of experience in these rituals, that you enlist the assistance of a professional funeral celebrant. They understand the power of ritual and recognize all the ingredients that are required to create a successful product. It seems weird to discuss this like you would a wedding cake, however you must realize that it is kind of like planning a wedding in a week in the midst of the most difficult emotional/psychologically stressful period you can imagine.

3. Gatherings can add to your story and can guide the future conversations.  Narrative therapy teaches us the principle that rarely is our story simple enough to be black and white, and to remember that our story is not over once we have taken our last breath.

4. Just because something is difficult doesn't mean it is not healthy. I have suggested it before in this blog, but the words seem to ring true. The more you engage with the difficult process and leave the professionals out of the death care process, the less you require a professional counsellor later to piece together and make sense of your narrative.

Cam's Dad

Today my good friend Cam called me to tell me his dad had died suddenly in Kelowna. His dad was 80 and was out working a landscape job with a friend, when he suddenly just dropped dead. 

Now you have to understand that years ago Cam drove me to my uncle Ernie's garage where we ended up having a spontaneous informal viewing of my grandmother in 2008. It was also Cam that drove me to the medical examiners office to pick up my son in September 2015, and transported him in the back of a pick up truck he borrowed from a friend. He has been one of my main wing-men, not out of conscious choice, but coincidental happenstance. You see Cam is the kind of guy that never says no when a job needs to be done. I just happen to by the type of person who doesn't have good boundaries and asks people to do outrageous things. This is why it was difficult to tell him that I didn't have a box on hand to ship to Kelowna to help him in this pinch. However I knew that Cam had experienced enough of my stories to know how the making a box can shift one's perspective.

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I emailed him a few construction details and suggested he talk with the rest of his family about building a box when they got to Kelowna. It took a few days for them to buy into the concept. Cam directed his sisters to my blog and told them that dad wanted to be put "in a simple pine box". They were told by the funeral home, it would cost $1000 to rent a box and then an additional fee for the creamation container. It just made more sense to build something on their own, especially given the fact that dad had given them "permission" to do so.

Saturday morning, my sister who was most hesitant came to me and said it would be a good idea to build my Dad a simple pine box. My Brother-in-law and I then put the wheels in motion. I contacted Brent, and he sent directions. We purchased materials Saturday afternoon from Home Depot. With people visiting, and funeral planning responsibilities, we did not start building until Sunday evening; cutting pieces to length, dadoing grooves into the laminated pine boards, and dry fitting the boards together for the box.

Monday was a busy day again, with family arriving and other planning duties: putting together an obituary and PowerPoint, meeting with the funeral director, and finalizing plans for the funeral.

Monday evening we put together the lid and put the finishing touches on the box, Dad’s brother, my uncle Dave, is a finish carpenter and was able to quickly put the box and lid together  and with a few pieces of finishing trim on the box. The simple pine box was looking good by Monday evening.

Tuesday morning, we completed the box; drilled holes in the lid and sidewalls for the dowels we would use to pin the lid to the box, and brought the box to the funeral home around 2:00 p.m., to give them time to put Dad’s body in the pine box and prepare for the family viewing in the evening.

The viewing time was very emotional. We brought felt pens to allow family member to write thoughts or messages to Dad onto the box.  I cherish the notes and drawing my wife and daughters put on the casket.

At Wednesday’s funeral, we arranged that the box would not be brought into the service, but remain in a side room, so that guests could go in and add more notes.

Just before the service started, we put the lid on with just the mourners present. Those who wanted to could drive in the wooden dowels: me, my wife, my sisters, Dad’s grandchildren, brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews, and his friends. It was a very emotional time, but good for us to mourn in this way.

One of my cousins, who I thought would want to put in a dowel, said he just couldn’t do it. He said it just didn’t seem right for him to “put the last nail in the coffin.”

Many people told me they were impressed with the coffin, there were no negative comments at all.

My Dad was cremated the morning after the funeral. Just my sister, her husband, my cousin, and I attended.

I wanted to be there, mainly to take a last look at the coffin and record what people wrote. 

I thought it was a bit like a graveyard service in the crematorium. It was more emotional than I thought it would be, as I pushed the coffin into the furnace.

One of the best compliments I received concerning the simple pine box was from the funeral director, just before we left. He said, “I was impressed by the coffin you built for your Dad; I made sure all our staff came by to take a look at the coffin when they arrived this morning.”

Thank you Brent, for sharing the concept of the simple pine box: the idea, the plans and your guidance. Building Dad’s box gave me time to be with family while we worked together on the box; it gave us a medium to say our final goodbyes to my Dad; and together we were able to give my Dad the pine box he would have wanted.

Nancy's box (can I interest you in the floor model)

Today I got a call from my partner, that Nancy was transferred to hospice house this morning. The family had called her and she was on her way to see Nancy. (Nancy has been like an adopted mother to us.)

The amazing thing was just two weeks ago this was Nancy and I and her son Erik taking chickens to Vanderhoof to get butchered. (Sorry about the quality of the picture).

Nancy was someone who lived life on her terms. It was on this trip that she told us what was going to happen when she died. She made it clear that she didn't want any unnecessary expenses spent on her final arrangements. I had thought we had more time to put a box together. I had envisioned making her a custom box, perfectly shaped for her petite but tough as nails frame. Little did I know that she only lived a few hours at hospice. We now had 24 hours to make a box and pick her body up from hospice. What were we going to do?

Well if you are like most people you would not even consider doing all the arrangements yourself. Making the box, completing all the paperwork, and transportation to the crematorium. You would call the funeral home and they would be there within the hour to transport. You would sign the check and be done with all the "messy details". As you know by now, I am not most people. Nancy was special and had given explicit direction that we were not going to follow the status quo. While I was confident that I could make a box in 24 hours if I had a workshop and didn't have anything else to do. But paperwork needed to be completed and more importantly I wanted to sit vigil with the family. All these thoughts were rushing around my head as I drove to hospice. The problem was already solved by the time I arrived. You see, I had built a box at home and it was sitting at the end of the hall. It was kind of a template I had created a few months before. Most people would not find the humour of Nancy getting the "floor model" but we thought it was exactly what Nancy would have appreciated.

The box was only put together with a handful of screws and so we had to dismantle it, glue and screw it all together. As with many of my box builds, the weather wasn't conducive to having glue set up so we moved the box to the kitchen and did the assemble there.

 After a quick sanding of the box the next morning, we added some hay for bedding and off we went to pick her up from hospice.















I would love to tell the whole story but I think I will create a separate blog in order to tell it properly.

It takes a village ...

Almost everyone has heard the expression "it takes a village to raise a child". What most people would not understand is that it most certainly takes a village to send your son on the last canoe ride … On september 3rd at approximately 1:20 pm my son drew his last breath. It was on highway 93, 1.7 km north of saskatchewan crossing in alberta Canada. The circumstances of who was present is a bit sketchy. I hear accounts of people who attempted providing life saving efforts. I have read the medical examiners report, and in fact physically laid my hands on most of his body in the following days preparing him for a home funeral. I have felt his brokenness, and experienced the overwhelming joy and connection of the village of individuals who have stepped up to the plate and assisted me in his final send off. Let me take you back to that fateful day. More than 11 hours later an officer and 2 victim services workers were knocking on my door. I knew immediately that death had crossed my doorstep as I invited them in to my living room. I didn't need to know why at the time … (I think for me the why is still not forefront in my mind). At the time all that i was focused on was the "who". When I heard the name "Baxter Douglas Goerz" I immediately realized that I had just received my invitation to the club that no one wants to be in … but choice has no bearing. I knew this would rock my world view and challenge the assumptions and cognitive reframe strategies that I use everyday in my professional world; bad things happen to good people, shit happens, and the colloquial phrase that I never have used professionally "God doesn't give you anything that you can't handle" Please forgive me as I ramble. Know that my grammer isn't perfect, my thoughts are a bit disjointed, and my posts will seem out of order. Today 13 days later I need to try an organize my thoughts in word form. My reaction of "there are no words" now are filled with a cascade of words, memories, emotions and sensations. Today I need to open a blog entitled "it takes a village: Can the building of a box contain a fathers grief at the loss of his son? …"

https://boxmakingvillage.blogspot.ca/

Owen's box

Today I have a long phone conversation with Sheryle Steeves. Sheryle is the spouse of Owen and if you remember, she was left for dead and her husband and best friend were brutally murdered at their ranch down the blackwater road almost 4 years ago. I was thinking about including "owen's box" as one of the chapters in my book and I needed to make contact with her in order to get her permission to share her story. I ended up recording the phone conversation, and she felt excited that I would write some of this story down. You see she has seen psychiatrists and counsellors over the years and has never made the connection necessary to heal from her wounds. She said that when she came out to my house, and built Owen's box, the was the only time she felt safe and connected to her work of grief. I look forward to being able to connect with her by phone and I hope to meet her in person when I drive through Kamloops in March. Please scroll down to connect to the link to "a box for Owen"

http://owensbox.blogspot.ca

Wilf's Box

I didn't realize the "gift or opportunity" of my shop falling down until I heard Wilf's story. You see, I first heard about Wilf at Easter time, March 2013. I was just preparing to go visit my parents in William's lake when I received a call from one of the Spritual volunteers at the hospital. She told me that Wilf had always wanted a pine box. I was devestated because I knew that the timing was totally shitty. I was heading out of town and I had no place to work on the box. But I agreed to meet with her at hospice house and have a conversation with her. As I prepared for the meeting I realized that there was no reason that Wilf couldn't have a pine box. I was sure that there was someone within Wilf's circle who had basic carpentry skills. When I sat down with Donna (his spouse) she told me that her son-in-law, Chris was a framer. I gave Donna a rough sketch of what the box should look like and suggested possible materials. I also included my cell phone number so that Chris could text or call me for directions. I never heard back from the family. I watched the obituary notices for the following weeks and nothing showed up. Months later I heard that Wilf was still alive. It wasn't until the following November that I heard the story. I sat down with Donna and her family. The conversation was filled with laughter and beautiful stories of how the making of the box had transformed the entire families grief process. I heard that when Chris's was first asked if he would build the box, he refused. He was not a finish carpenter. It wouldn't be "nice enough". He finally agreed to and like a true man never did call me for assistance but forged ahead on his own. Chris told me that the "mistakes" he made, ended up becoming the feature attractions of the box. The grandkids told me of neighbors walking by the carport where the box was being decorated and making jokes about the fact the box looked like a coffin. When they confirmed the neighbors suspicions, there was thoughts of disbelief. It was a running joke that almost every family member tried out the box before Wilf was finally put to rest in it. I have much more to say about this experience. Stay tuned for Wilf's box as one of the chapters in the new book I am writing. In the end my shop collapsing was an amazing opportunity because I realized I was not the central character in the transformation narrative of the building of a simple pine box. My "calling" was to give enough information and direction so that people could write/build their own narrative of creating a simple pine box ... This was where my energies need to be directed, cause I know that in my book I can provide such direction so that hundreds of people can take charge of their own funeral narrative. Stay tuned for more stories of transformation.

One Sweet Box

"JUST BECAUSE SOMETHING IS HARD, DOESN'T MEAN IT IS NOT HEALTHY"



I felt very honored when the family asked me to assist them in making a simple pine box for Terry. You see Terry was a very uniuqe individual. He loved his woodworking projects, he built his own house and numerous outbuildings on his acreage. I suspect that he would have wanted to build his own box but didn't think that he would be taken so soon. He was just too darn busy living each day to plan for tomorrow.

 In deciding what the box should look like it was obvious that pine needed to be the feature wood. If we would have had more time we could have used the lumber from the multiple lifts of lumber that Terry had cut and were air drying around his property. No one expected that Terry's life would be cut short at the young age of 47. Fortunately I had a basic shell available, so what was needed was to mount the bottom of the box and create a lid design. I got some feedback from the family and decided that a classic shiplap lid with a Z brace would be fitting. Little did I know that this mirrored many projects that Terry had made for his own place.

 It is not uncommon that when a sudden death occurs there are many things left unsaid and subtle tensions are experienced within relationships. I have seen how building a box can bring the family together and move a person out of their despair and helplessness into action. It was really amazing to see the family mobolize and start working on the box as soon as I got there. Within a short while the bottom was glued and screwed and the lid was being assembled.

Initially the family was going to have a private creamation and the body was not going to be present during the service. Once they started getting their hands moving and creating a box that expressed who Terry was it was obvious that his presence was needed during the service.

I would love to tell you the rest of the story but my job was done. The family knew what to do and I would only get in the way of their creativity. My role was to step back and allow the process to evolve. Since the family was healthy and had a strong foundation they did not need any external support to finish the project.

My heart was full when I heard tidbits of the story of the box. I suggested when the time is right I would love to hear the story and maybe we could add it to the blog or ... it could be a chapter in the book that I would like to write ... someday.

THE LESS WORK PROFESSIONALS DO FOR YOU IN ARRANGING A FUNERAL THE GREATER THE CHANCE YOU WILL NOT NEED PROFESSIONAL INTERVENTION TO HANDLE YOUR GRIEF REACTIONS LATER. (just my hypothesis)

The industry is right by your side to offer to do all the difficult parts in planning a funeral. What we tend to forget is that if we are left with nothing to do we are disengaged from the process of grief and end up sometimes staying stuck in our grief after all the busyness is over. This was not the case with the sweet family, they were actively engaged with all aspects of the funeral ... and that made all the difference.

Byron's Box

My brother requested a box to be used within the BCGEU forestery component. I am just completing the box and delivering it this week.

2 Rivers Art Gallery Curio

I am currently working on one of my living boxes (curio) that I am donating to the two rivers art gallery. They are having a Halloween event and I am struggling a bit with the design of the box. I have always tried to avoid the perception of my boxes being a Halloween/gothic prop but more of conversation piece that helps people discuss death in a healthy, proactive way. It also doesn't help that this is a high end event for people outside of my income bracket.

I spent several hours with the Communications director (she came out to the cabin) and she obviously gets the concept, however displaying something without being able to tell the Narrative is always challenging. The background for the box is a dead garden so I was thinking of building the curio around a small tree sapling and have the branches intertwined with the shelves (whether or not this is do-able or attractive is another matter)

MCC fall fair curio

Here is the curio I donated to the fall fair. It was my clasic curio taper and I placed a plywood back since it would be used as furniture.

Participatory Grief

Apparently this phrase does not yet exist. I think it emphasizes that in order to work through grief it is important to engage and not get caught being passive. That is not to say that there are periods of time where exaustion sets in. I love this picture of my extended family finishing grandma's box.

I have been thinking about how this whole process started recently. I am constantly reminded what a blessing it was to build my grandmothers box. For more information please see http://www.grandmathiessenmemory.blogspot.com/. I think that I will start on that book I have been promising for the last couple of years. Grandma's box will be the first chapter, then I could include a chapter on owen, and a few other families that I have interacted with the past year.

Home show spring 2010

Artist box

Round Coffin display case

Gary from NR motors asked me to build a display case for his wake boards

Here is the finished product in his show room

This case is 7' tall

Canadian Funeral pyre

One of the issues that arises is how to integrate funeral customs that originate outside of the north american context. The funeral pyre is an excellent example. Pyre is from the greek meaning fire. It is when a structure of wood is created and the body is placed on the structure while it is lit on fire. In the viking context the funeral pyre is constructed on a boat.

(picture from Wikipedia)

Canadians trying to recreate this tradition utilize modern day crematoriums. One of our simple pine boxes can also faciliate this fire by creating a pure fire without extra material commonly contained in the modern day casket.