Who is Bob Aloysius? His words could be harsh. His voice loud. Many heard their first swear words from him. Often you’d hear his booming voice, he could weave a creative string of every imaginable cuss word you could think of.
But he is dad. Ap’a. A survivor. A force to be reckoned with. Most importantly, he is a Yup’ik (or as he would say Yupiaq) person. No matter how others tried to force it out of him. Remove him from his home, family, land, beat him for speaking the language, discouraged practicing aspects of the culture, he remained true to his identity. Even if substance abuse tried to hide it. Or the shame associated with it. He found himself. Remembered who he was. Where he was from.
His start in life was modest, difficult. Born premature. In summer camp. Far from a hospital and medical experts. Despite there being no modern technology, he survived. By the healing will of his grandfather. Who passed on to him his gift to help others heal.
Raised in a mud house. By two old women, who became the foundation of his love, loyalty, identity, and family. In this humble beginning, he learned to respect himself, the land, and animals. Our connection to it. How to harvest and preserve its bounty. Not overtake. Share with others. Then to pass this knowledge onto others, as to not be forgotten.
Though others sought to silence him, he learned to speak his mind. Even if it was against popular belief. You didn’t like what he had to say? He’d say it anyway. He advocated for those who were afraid to speak up for themselves. Looking out for the greater good. To speak out for what is right. Human rights. Rights to subsistence. Respect and acceptance of others, despite differences. Not passing up on an opportunity to learn. Not be afraid of change, but to evolve. Though he might’ve resisted it at first, it happened.
He loves, with all of his heart. Fully. Without conditions. Gives great, enveloping hugs that could take away pain. Make you feel comfort, happy, safe. No matter the hour, he would drop everything to be there in time of need to comfort and console. Offer prayers of support. But also, to celebrate joys. He conducted countless funerals, baptisms, and marriages.
He could be the biggest critic but also offer guidance to improve. Then the biggest cheerleader. No matter the sport; basketball, baseball, football, you could hear, “Go, go, take the ball away!” Rooting for the underdog. But always, a loyal Seahawks fan. When supporting his kids, grandkids, in-laws he’d be the loudest in the gym, making up noises for the mascot. Embarrassing? Yes, but you were happy to have him in your corner.
He talked of not being the fastest, or the best athlete, but he could dance. Dance he did. He could cut a rug doing the two-step, jitter bug, waltz, fox trot, polka, shawdish. Rock and roll, country western, metal, hip-hop, jazz, no matter the genre, Bob could dance to it. You didn’t know how to dance? Didn’t like to dance? That didn’t matter, he could lead you with confident, smooth steps. Yuraq? Though it was banned in his lifetime, when its revitalization hit its peak, he was a character. Fun to watch. Was not stingy with his arms or expression. Whoa Bobby! He encouraged others to dance. Being a good dancer, led you to be a good leader. How
to respect your partner. Celebrate! Give thanks. Relieve stress.
He is a provider. No matter the season, the weather, Bob loved to fish. Set a net underneath the ice, drift in the summer. Often, he could be found on a beach (or in the boat) with a rod and reel, or on the ice with a manaq in his hands. This brought him joy. Contentment. Camping or hunting, he could find a way to get fresh fish. Though not much, you didn’t go hungry. Being outside, one with nature, he was in his element. He would give thanks to the land, the water, and our ability to hunt, fish, trap, and gather its bounty.
He was called to serve others. He served in the military. As a deacon. A teacher. A counselor. On countless boards. He gave of himself freely. Ever looking out for the welfare of others. Finding the balance of being a native man in a western world. Bridging the ways of knowing. Still remaining true to himself. Who he was. Where he was from.
His eyes sparkled with a sense of humor, a mischievous smile on his face. He had a nickname for almost everyone he met. A big, booming voice but no bite. But most of all, he was filled with love.
If you asked him, he would tell you he did not learn these things alone. But gave credit where it was due. Acknowledging he got his strength from the creator, relied on wisdom of the elders, support from other adults, and the energy and vision of the youth, children (grandchildren) and infants. It all came full circle in his lifetime. He has led a full, happy life. Though it may have been filled with hurt, pain, and sorrow at times, he pushed though. Found a way to let it go. Lived his life free of regret, free of guilt. So, do the same, follow his example. Live your life. Fully. With happiness. Don’t be afraid to try new things. Dance! Learn from your mistakes. Accept others for who they are. Where they are from.
Thank you to the following for all your love and support:
*Grant Varvil, SFC Care Coordinator, for helping our family navigate services and keeping us calm.
*The entire nursing staff at the Pioneer Home.
*The Alaska Regional SPCU nursing staff.
*Everyone who donated financial contributions.
*All the messages, letters, texts, and good memories.
~from Berta, Fia, Cheryl, Atmak, Papa Joe, and all their loved ones, present and those that have gone before.
Blessing
“May our Creator grant him eternal rest and peace.
May his Ancestors guide him on his last journey home.
May his Grandparents, parents and children welcome him home.
May the angels open the gates before him. May the saints embrace him as he enters the Kingdom of Heaven.”
-Bob Aloysius
