I believe I have never seen’s person’s life marked and respected as lovingly, creatively,  sensitively and honestly as Paul Moshimer’s life was marked these past few days at the Blue Star Equiculture farm. Funerals and memorial services can blur together for me, be sad and empty at times, filled with ritual and protocol and stillness and formality.

It is so hard to capture a life, but the honoring of the life of Paul Moshimer was quite amazing, it opened my eyes to the possibilities of saying goodbye to people in a new and different way. Pamela lives outside of the box, she marches to her own drum, and those of us who love Paul were moved and uplifted and enchanted by it.

First, Pamela Moshimer Richenback was open. Anyone was welcome, she shared the farm, the death openly and authentically, proving once again that authenticity is a powerful antidote to pain and confusion and anger. The food on her kitchen table was available to anyone, visitors came to see the horses even as Pamela had begun  grieving her husband. I told Paul once that honesty was the greatest weapon there was against hate, but Pamela proved it.

She did not shy away from the tree where Paul took  his own life, she talked to some wise friends in the Native-American world, and she brought flowers to the tree where Paul died, and people brought more flowers, symbols, food, water, ribbons and flags. Soon, it was a festive and colorful shrine. The tree became a beautiful marker and symbol of the love so many people had for Paul.

Then the fire. A friend volunteered to be a fire keeper, he sat with the fire day and night for four  days, tending it and burning smoking sage for visitors to walk through. The fire burned day and night, there was always someone there, it became a beautiful way to grieve, out in the open air, close to where Paul lived and died. It was also a refuge, a quiet and sacred place for people to think, meditate and mourn if they wished.

Then the horses. It was a beautiful thing for a dozen or so people to parade the big draft horses out past the fire and around the tree four times, then the horses went on to visit the places along the water that Paul loved and where he spent so much time.

It was wonderful to be in the open, to come and go as we pleased, to worship in community or individually. Pamela came and went as she could and as she needed, and I thought once more, as I often have, how precious it is to bring joy and laughter as well as tears to the end of a life.

All day, every day, people – some total strangers – appeared with food, flowers, cookies, love and support. They came from friends nearby and places hours away. I have never marked a life in this way, it was beautiful and powerful and rich, it brought this good man to life and made us understand him and feel close to him.

There will probably be a final memorial service to Paul in a week or so, Pamela is still thinking about it. It was a gift to celebrate Paul’s life and mark his death is so beautiful and real a way, in a setting so close to his home and heart. A woman sitting next to me said it felt as if he was sitting with us. He is, I said, he is.