Inside an Indigenous funeral: How a First Nation sends a member to the spirit world
Stanley Paul was born on Nov. 25, 1956. In February, he passed into the spirit world after a battle with COPD, with his loved ones singing him a travelling song as he left this earth.
St. Mary's First Nation celebrates the life of Stanley Paul
Stanley Paul passed to the spirit world on Feb. 20 after a battle with COPD, a lung disease that causes airflow and breathing-related problems. (Ann Paul/CBC)
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The grandkids used to fight over Stanley Paul's chair.
It was his smell, said Ann Paul, Stanley's daughter. They wanted to fall asleep in it.
Nobody fought over Stanley's empty chair at a recent drum circle. It was meant for him, and the people surrounding it were celebrating his life.
Stanley Paul was born on Nov. 25, 1956. In February, he passed over to the spirit world after a battle with COPD, a lung disease that causes airflow and breathing-related problems. His loved ones sang him a travelling song as he left this earth.
"It was absolutely beautiful," Ann Paul said.
Stanley Brian Paul, from St. Mary’s First Nation (Sitansisk), went west to learn how to make drums, bringing that knowledge back home to teach others. He was a firekeeper and a sweat lodge keeper. He taught his daughter, Ann Paul, how to fish and swim, and then he taught her children how to walk. (Ann Paul/CBC)
A fire had been burning for several hours leading up to Paul's death. Sacred fires are usually started after someone's death to offer comfort to the community, said Paul, but they started this one before his death to give the family strength as they stayed in the hospital with him for a week.
After Stanley Paul's death, his body was brought home, where there was drumming, smudging, and another sacred fire. A wake lasted for two days so loved ones could travel from farther away to join.
Ann Paul, who has shared how a baby is welcomed into a First Nation community through her work with CBC News, also wanted to share how her community celebrates someone's life when they die.
"Everything was done with our way of life," she said.
Scroll through the photos and watch the video to see how an Indigenous community is working to decolonize funerals.
WATCH | 'We celebrate all of it': Ann Paul shows us how St. Mary's First Nation celebrates death
After Ann Paul’s father died, she invited us to see how her community mourns — and laughs — together
2 years ago
Duration 4:47
CBC contributor Ann Paul is our guide to how St. Mary’s First Nation celebrates a life well lived.
A drum circle was held for Stanley Paul at his wake. On the right, there’s an empty chair with a drumming stick on it, a space held for Stanley. (Ann Paul/CBC)
Stanley Paul’s grandchildren spent nearly every Friday night with him and his partner, Maggie Paul, watching movies and eating pizza. Ann Paul said Stanley was a father figure to her own son. (Ann Paul/CBC)
Two days before Stanley passed away, a pipe ceremony was held to help him on his journey home. (Ann Paul/CBC)
The way Ann Paul remembers it growing up, someone’s passing involved the entire community. People would come to your house to clean it, often bringing food. Here, some support workers are caring for Maggie Paul, Ann’s mother. (Ann Paul/CBC)
Ann Paul said Stanley wanted Ann’s son to be with them in the hospital when he passed. On the day Stanley went to the spirit world, Ann’s son arrived at the hospital at 6 p.m. Stanley passed 12 minutes later. (Ann Paul/CBC)
Many members of the community celebrated Stanley Paul’s life with his family. 'He would do anything for anybody,' Ann said. (Ann Paul/CBC)
Sisters of the Drums sang Stanley Paul in when he was brought home for the wake, and the Muskrat Singers drummed for him. (Ann Paul/CBC)
A sacred fire, started after someone’s passing, gives comfort to the community. People can put tobacco in the fire, offering prayers to the Creator. It’s not just tobacco that can go in the fire. Shortly before Stanley died, Ann Paul visited a sacred fire for him, where there was a pizza with Stanley’s favourite toppings. Ann sat with the firekeepers, who offered a piece of pizza to the fire. (Ann Paul/CBC)
At the wake, there was celebration, joy, and laughter. If there were tears, Ann said that was OK, too, because you have to let those tears go. Children are not shushed, and the rooms are not quiet. It’s a celebration of life. 'Everybody was buzzing around,' Ann said. 'It's getting together, loving and hugging.' (Ann Paul/CBC)
(CBC News Graphics)
Ann's Eye
Photographer Ann Paul brings an Indigenous lens to stories from First Nations communities across New Brunswick. Click here or on the image below to see more of her work.
Ann Paul is a Wolastoqey woman. Her name is Monoqan, meaning rainbow. She is a grandmother, a mother, a daughter, an auntie, a dancer, a singer and a teacher. Using her camera, she brings an Indigenous lens to stories from First Nations communities across New Brunswick.
