Uncle George

Last Updated on October 27, 2024

I wrote these words to share on Sunday, October 20, 2024 at the Memorial Service for George Grey Eagle Bertelstein held in El Cerrito, CA.

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“George called me Niecie. I called him Uncle. 

My prayer in this moment is to let something greater take over and, for the grace of it, share some words about George that only I could say. 

Many years ago George made me a green smoothie after ceremony.

It was a brief time when there was no wopila after that ceremony. I was the last to leave. I sat there staring at George. I wasn’t sure how I’d make it home. We went into the dome and he gave me this shiny black stone with 2 hearts on it from the women’s altar. I kept staring at him. Next he made me the weirdest, slimiest green smoothie I’ve ever had. I drank all of it.

Eventually I felt that it was time to go. I ended up getting well in Point Richmond on my way home, but that smoothie made it as graceful as possible. 

George’s presence was so loving. I needed no words, his sincerity and care helped me know that I would be okay. 

Another time George made me a coffee with honey. I came over to help him with his social media. It took about 5 minutes, but first he spent time making me one of the best coffees I can ever remember having. He then spent 45 minutes telling me all the details about his new Apple Watch and why he thought I would like one. I loved hearing him talk about anything because of the way his energy made me feel.  

In 2013, I started recording his Facebook posts into a word document. He started calling them his written teachings – I loved that. Every month I’d scroll thru pasting them into the document that grew to have over a hundred pages. 

I read them over and over. I made images with them for Facebook. This lasted for years and made me so happy. George seemed to love anything I did. I understood that he didn’t want me to ask him questions or give him choices. 

He saw me, he paid attention. His approval of me, his enjoyment of and excitement about things I did and created, was medicine for my father wound. I didn’t feel I had to work hard for his approval, but I worked hard because I enjoyed it so much. 

George and I didn’t have a lot to say to each other. It didn’t ever feel like silence and it was never a problem. The unconditional positive regard and undoubtable love that emanated from him always felt like a warm blanket around my shoulders.

During his last night in his body, I drove some prayers ties to Deakin Street. An owl, seemingly white in my headlights, flew low across in front of my car. When I got to the house, I felt it protected energetically. Honoring the sacredness of an intimate family moment I did not text or ring the doorbell, but left the prayer ties by the door. I sat in my car outside and wept for a long time. Feeling for George’s loving energy, not able to access it through my grief, though I know it was there. 

He carved the spirit of the wachuma into my pipe stem. I’m overcome by the beauty and magic of it every time I see it. 

He coveted my green Spring Rains Pendleton blanket. He always asked me about it if I didn’t bring it to ceremony. 

He loved the way I wrapped his medicine gifts beautifully. I loved bringing him that joy.  

These are words George said to me that still ring in my ears…

“You’re a peach.” “You’re the best person ever.” “I just can’t find a single thing wrong with you.” “Your soul is immaculate.” “I love you.”

I watched everything he did and heard everything he said. I saw how he was with people, witnessed how he was with himself, and felt how he was with me. Real, genuine, loving, and human.

As far as I can tell, he ALWAYS found a way to make a better prayer and to give and receive more love.

Thank you, George. I am so grateful for you.”

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The words above that you just read were what happened when let the prayer to let something larger than myself take over.

Below are the words that I originally wrote to share. The below words were written with love and intention, but I could feel myself wanting them to be good a little too much. I was trying a little too hard from a place of ego. As I wrote them I felt the pressure of trying to communicate the magnitude of George’s life, his love, his impact on so many. While experiencing the weight of that pressure, I remembered him saying over and over, “Remove the boot from your own neck.”

I chose to release that pressure. After all, everyone at the service knows and loves George. They all know how incredible he is and was. I decided to opt for sharing moments that only he and I were present for. Moments I hadn’t shared before. I wanted to use my few, sacred minutes to speak about him to say things that only I could say.

So the morning of the service, I changed a lot of what I had written to say. I felt nervous about it. I wondered if it was special enough and if it would reach people. I am so happy that I listened to my intuition. The words I had written before (below) are perfectly fine. They took me to another level as I sat with them though. They let me know that I could be more personal, more myself, and share even more intimately. I could feel the medicine and George like the wind at my back.

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“I’m deeply grateful my life, for this moment, and to be here with all of you.

I’m grateful for George and for the courage he took to live a healing life and become the most loving man, father, husband, uncle, grandfather, brother and friend he could be.

I’m grateful for his dedication to chanupa, to offering and holding ceremony in a good way, and to tending to his altar and his business.

I’m continuously moved by his ever-evolving prayer for his life. It allows so many humans to see through the eyes of their hearts and to ask for and receive the love and healing they pray for.

My prayer in this moment is to let something larger take over and, for the grace of it, share a few words about my love for George. Please help me.

In the preface of his book, A Clear & Simple Prayer, George describes a great teaching he received in 1989 in the desert while on a Vision Quest. He writes that this simple teaching challenged him for over 30 years.

“Pay attention!”

I met George in the fall of 2009, when I attended my first healing medicine ceremony. George was easy for me to pay attention to. I watched everything he did and heard everything he said. I saw how he was with people, witnessed how he was with himself, and felt how he was with me. Real, genuine, loving, human.

As far as I can tell, he ALWAYS found a way to make a better prayer and to give and receive more love.

George and I didn’t ever have a lot to say to each other. It didn’t feel like silence and it was never felt like a problem. The unconditional positive regard and undoubtable love that emanated from him always felt like a warm blanket around my shoulders.

I paid attention and a spiritual stamina grew in me. An increased ability to be with medicine, an understanding of listening to plants and the natural world, a patience with and fondness for myself. I paid attention and I found it easier and more desirable to hear and find myself in everyone’s prayers in ceremony. I paid attention and felt increasingly blessed by the vulnerability and grateful for the healing I witnessed and simultaneously felt in myself.

I’m so grateful to George for speaking, writing down, and recording so many of his teachings, making them accessible to so many. They have become part of me. I return to them again and again. The threads of his words are woven into our lives. They create a tapestry that continues to be the most healing and supportive phenomenon in my life.

These are words George said to me that still ring in my ears… “You’re a peach.” “You’re the best person ever.” “I can’t find a single thing wrong with you.” “Your soul is immaculate.” “I love you.”

I do not know how you did it, George, but I am so grateful that you did. Thank you.”

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