they will come and see me...way out on the rez a grandma waits to see her children

Going home for Christmas is sometimes hard to do when there isn't
enough beeso (money) for gifts. Sometimes it would be nice to go home
an bring all the things everyone needs or at least maybe a gift they
would like. If you don't have anything to take except yourself it
seems not worth the effort.

A few years ago there was an effort to find every home on the rez in
every community and put it on a map through Navajo Land
Administration. The effort went to every chapter(community), every
home and each house was recorded and the name of the family.


It was out toward Besh-be-to, just East of the Navajo Hopi Joint Use
Area, or rather Jeddito, and little ways north of Toyei, you will find
a small ribbon of dirt road that goes North from the highway. It is
hard to see, the road is not used that much and you trust it goes
somewhere. Chizh-a-teens we called them, wood hauling roads that
sometimes just end up no where, it looked like one of these and so
with the young Navajo college students and chapter representative the
road was taken. The question came up, does someone live up here? I
don't know, was the answer.


The road was little used and so we went down into a canyon and
followed the trail barely visible on the red sandstone and the four
wheel drive bounced around and we rattled along. It went North then
east, maybe 12 miles or so. In the cleft of a rock in the cedars was a
small home, maybe three rooms with a single window facing us. As we
neared the place there was a an old woman standing inside the window
looking at us, and she had binoculars and watched us as we came up to
here. We got out and went to the door, she said, Ohshde'-Come in, and
so we went in, and after exchanging clans she related she was
Tsinnijinnie, in the way knowing a little about clans there are many
Tsinnijiniie from Wide Ruins and from around Torrean, and at some
point their clan came from the Navajo Sacred Mountain to the East, I
think, so that before us was a woman, a child of many of our
grandmothers who had come to this place Beshbeto and so made her home.


She was old, her hair all gray and alone. She told us she stayed there
alone, and in the traditional way of things offered Ah-whe'-coffee to
us and we accepted it. She did not have much it looked like, a bed,
wood stove, a calender and many pictures of young children on the
wall.


We told her we were going around trying to find all the homes in the
area and we were looking for places people lived. Are there anymore
families that live around here? She told us about some families who
lived in the places she named in Navajo motioning to the west and
north, and told us about how they had lived there and used to herd
sheep, and how during this time of year used to have sings at their
place, but that the old man was gone, and his wife left with the
children and after a time no one had come back and so she was the only
one from there now. We asked how did this place come to be known as
Besh-be-to meaning Iron Water. She said that was what the old Navajo
people called it and so she knew it was that.


We asked about her family and she said they are all working, some are
in Kinlani'-Flagstaff, and the place of the men in long dresses-Gallup
but they had not been home for a while. In looking at the place, there
was no kerosene in her lamps and her wood was low. One of these boys
with me was from Naschitti, a Morris and he went out and without
saying anything picked up the axe and while we were talking to her,
went out and brought back some wood, some dead trees and cut some wood
for her. The young ladies went through the sack lunches and gathered
the fruit and put it out for her.


We visited her for an hour maybe two, and she talked about children,
sons, daughters and grandchildren living far off and they were going
to come and see her. She thought we were them, but we weren't. She sat
and spoke about them, and she did not want us to go, but we had to
leave. She watched us as we drove off.


There were many elderly people like that in each chapter, some
children work in the cities and come home on the weekend and some live
far off and come back each month, bringing supplies and visit. In
every community the old people are the ones who are taking care of our
reservation land, and some would like to have a visit, to be able to
have someone to talk to, and here about how life is going with their
grandchildren.


By chance I was the VA hospital and came across an old acquaintance,
his name is Nez, and he is quite old and we visited for a little bit.
I remembered him with his grandchildren fifteen years ago and he
played with them, acting as a babysitter watching them. It was hard
for him, but he liked it and I remember him playing with those kids,
their brown faces happy and how they liked to watch him as he made fry
bread. When I saw him, he was in a wheelchair, and from diabetes had
lost his feet, and he is a nursing home and they brought him in for a
doctor's visit. I saw him in the hallway by the nurses station.


I spoke to him from behind. He tried to turn around and though he did
not recognize me, I could see he liked to hear a friendly voice. He is
small now and needs help and for him he said he would like to talk to
his grandchildren for just a little bit. It would make his day.


I stood there against the wall and listened to him and thought about
my own sons and it would be good just to have them home, maybe to feel
their hair and put my arm around them. I wished him well and after a
fashion thought there I go in a few years. I wish I had done more to
get home to spend some time with the old folks and give them the best
gift of all I guess, and that is my time, to be there and talk about
nothing really, but just be home. After all when it is all said and
done, there is nothing that matters but family and friends. This is
what I thought about as I saw him getting wheeled away...