Tonga Mass was a Memorial

Tonga Memorials, at least this one which clearly was special lasted days. Days on end the singing continued as did the bbq. The people streamed in from all over and by all over I mean off the map...off the local map. Off the grid. In fact, truth be told I got to share in it by sheer opportunity of being in the right place at the right time. Wow...Again I feel lucky in the face of loss. Unexplainable, I know & agree. This time the loss settled in the home across the street. A man made church was erected on the front lawn with all the pomp and circumstance of the Tongan culture. The elder passed on 12/26. They put him to rest like a king. Like the king he was internally. I knew he was a king without being told .I knew it when his spirit soared invisibly above me and he gleaned with delight at the gathering. .He even visited me in my yard which made sense to me as his "sons" had climbed my trees to groom them on multiple occasion. I was amazed at what he showed me. A petrified gecko embedded in my dying, no dead, palm tree poised himself like the victim of volcanic lava...petrified in black for evermore.I NEVER would have seen this had his spirit not arrived in the middle of my anguished battle with the earth. See, I hastily and with great fervor was pounding the rock hard dirt of my woebegone land...he came to calm my restless angry ghost. He did it magically and I was/am in awe of him. No wonder he is so greatly revered forevermore. Black & purple drape adorned the makeshift church. The matted straw bedding, the costumes, the kids, the tutus, the pain, strength and by strength I mean amazing  grace strength . It permeated into the street. Tongan people are very strong and robust.. Happy by nature. The electric sockets full, the cars impacting, the food nurturing...ahh the music so bitter sweetly arrested my soul that I surrendered over and over again to the captivating front stoop on my home. There many moments of partaking in the mass without invite occurred, respectfully knowing I was welcome from afar. How could I not be. They were calling me..us. In passing I met the granddaughter of this tribesman who so gracefully passed from golden age and we hugged still not knowing names. Well, not specifically...we knew not name but we knew the word neighbor & so we hugged with understanding. I was witness to a mass I shall never forget. In peace and in passing....so be it.