One of our dear maintenance workers passed away on Tuesday. He was only 59. This man was a gentle soul, a humble father of four, beloved husband, and dedicated employee at our school for the past 20 years. Each year he would dress up in his best robes and lead our International Festival Parade with his unique style of drumming upon handcrafted drums. He sang while he worked and danced everyone’s legs off at any school function. He will be missed.

As principal it is an expectation (and a personal desire)that I attend all funerals (and most weddings…but need an invite) related to our faculty and staff. Each one is so unique and different depending on the culture. This funeral was Hindu.

Since our employee died in the hospital and the cause known, no autopsy was necessary. His body was brought home, washed and dressed (he requested to be buried in his school uniform) and laid to rest on a mattress in the living room. All furniture was removed and everyone present had brought pillows to sit upon.

When we arrived the entire family was present. We removed our shoes at the door and were led into the room. Chairs suddenenly materialized and we were seated. His wife, dressed in her colorful wedding sari, flowers entwined in her hair, wrists adorned with bangles, and a red dot on her forehead indicating a married woman, was seated on the floor at his head. Across and next to her were their daughters. And filling the entire room were all the female relatives and friends, all there to support the living and to pay their respects. A Dewali candle and incense burned on the window sill. An Indian funeral song quietly played on repeat in the background. The sorrow palpable and thick. We brought with us large garlands of flowers (4 foot long) and placed them over the body. So many garlands had been placed over our dear friend you could only see his face. People took turns going up to him to say goodbye, to wish him well. Some wailed and cried, stroked his face, his head, kissed him goodbye. The men mostly waited outside under a rented canopy, mourning in their own way.

When it was my turn, I went and sat across from the wife. The entire room became silent waiting for my words. I gently placed my hand on his cheek and thanked him for his service and dedication, for his kindness and gentle ways. I shared how he made our school a better place and all of us better for knowing him. I said goodbye one final time. We then paid our respects to the children and wife and presented them with an envelope containing a collection taken at the school. We quietly departed by first touching his feet and saying a final prayer, then made room for others.

Later in the day the priest from the temple will come and say prayers. The body will be placed into a casket. At the same time the wife is taken aside, usually by other elderly widows. She is helped out of her wedding sari, never to wear it again, and is given a plain colored or white sari to wear. She is not to wear colorful sari’s again. The flowers are removed from her hair, shredded and placed in the coffin. Her bangles are removed and broken. The red dot on her forehead erased. She is now a widow.

Each culture maintains their own funeral protocols and customs. The Muslim funeral is different from Hindu, different from Buddhist, from Christian. It is an honor to attend.