Sunrise for Rudi Brass

Although I met you only in passing, coming or going at our Community Outreach, I do know and love many of your family. This morning as I was getting coffee for your auntie Keitha and muffins for your cousin Elizabeth and her family, I turned at Robin's Donuts and the sun was rising, a yellow ball of pink, just sitting on the hills.  I parked my vehicle at a funny angle, jumped out, and took this picture for you. I watched, maybe a minute, as the sun rose and slipped behind the clouds. I knew this sunrise was from the Creator, a reminder of how life is beautiful but short.

Today at your funeral I heard stories of a kind, loving, loyal, entertaining, and talented young man. Tears rolled down my face as your family, your community mourned. William, your brother and my old student, told me how you loved to read the bible and of your respect for traditional ways. William also told me you loved to share your ideas. I wish I could have listened to what you were learning, but in a way, today I did listen to you.

As we gathered at Asham Beach Cemetary on the Pasqua First Nation in the snowy Qu'Appelle Valley, you were bringing your people together. We will all be better for knowing you, even me, who really met you after you were gone. We will love each other stronger. We will make better decisions. We will remember to pray more often.

As Keitha, Dana and I were driving back to the Fort, we took the scenic route (because I missed the Mackey Hill turnoff). Driving along the Ba-say-tah road I saw a big bird flying along the lake shore beside us. At first I thought it was a hawk, but Dana said, "That's an eagle." The eagle flew alongside us, almost at our eye-level because the road is higher than the lake, almost right into Fort Qu'Appelle, but then he turned and headed over the lake.

But maybe you already know all of this.