and if we're lost, we are lost together Tomorrow is my grandmother's funeral. It is a sad time for the Ryan clan, but it is somehow a magnificent event here in Miramichi "city" in New Brunswick. Over the last three days, her seven children have arrived from St. Catharines, Petawawa, Moncton, and Victoria. Her twenty or so grandchildren have arrived from Vancouver, Calgary, St. Catharines, Toronto, Ottawa, Petawawa, and Fredericton. The youngest family member present is my cousin's four-month-old daughter, who took her first flight today. We are a convoy of vehicles travelling about this quiet town back and forth from my aunt's house to the funeral home. There are a lot of tears, but a lot of hugs and laughter, too.

The family received visitors at the funeral home today for four hours, and my grandmother, having lived in this region for all of her eighty-nine years, was visited by hundreds of well-wishers. After visiting was finished, my father, being the eldest of the seven children, called all family into one room and requested that we make a giant circle. So there were forty plus Ryans who stood shoulder to shoulder and solemnly joined hands for one final prayer and to silently acknowledge the importance of this family, our family. Each subset of the clan then approached the coffin to say one last tearful farewell to this family's matriarch.

The circle of life has some powerful moments.  | ¶ 11:33 p.m.