Bitter Sweet Memories

     I have spent all day wondering how I would go about proclaiming my love for someone, especially when that someone just recently passed away. My dad's mom passed on a few days ago. It still hasn't really sunk in for me, just yet. {I am still in that denial phase of the grieving process.}

       My grandma, Celia, was a brilliant woman. She was very soft spoken, very quiet (like my dad). She was the one who first taught me how to crochet. I was only 12 or 13, at the time. I will never forget how soft her hands were, especially for living in a climate that she had (New Mexico).
     Her and my grandpa were really close with the Navajo and Hopi people. I don't believe I have ever seen my grandma without wearing at least one piece of Native American jewelry. She wore elegant turquoise bracelets, rings, necklaces and earrings.  Her home was adorn with many Kachina dolls, Native American rugs, Tomahawks, and paintings of the Native American culture. Those are the things that I'll remember most about her. She had a great love and respect for Native American people.
     For years, my grandparents owned and managed Trading Posts across the Navajo and Hopi Nations. They made many friends with these people, so much that some of my family (including my dad) received Navajo and Hopi names. I hope that one day, I will be able to carry on this tradition with my family. I would love to receive a Navajo and/or Hopi name. According to my dad, it is a real honor and privilege to receive one.
     My dad's family grew up learning, and speaking both Hopi and Navajo languages. Every once in awhile, I will still hear my dad reciting a few Navajo words to me and my family. The language is beautiful. I wish I could write it out, but sadly it's not a written language. But what was most amazing was listening to my grandparents speak in Native tongues. I didn't understand what they were saying, but I fully enjoyed listening to the different pronunciations of each word spoken.
     I will never forget spending time looking out at the mesas with my family, and my grandma by my side.They truly are nature's beautiful artwork. Secretly, I always wanted to climb one of those things.... But I have a terrible fears of heights. I still would love to go back, and visit. I love that warm, hot and dry air that New Mexico has.

    I will always remember cooking eggs out on my grandma's sidewalk, in the middle of July. I was so fascinated by it. All she could do was laugh, and say, "Jacque, you're silly."  Man, I've gotta tell ya I love my grandparents. Miss them every single day. I have grown to love, remember and share their legacies. Love ya much, Grandma.