The Essence of Family and Great Times.

– Photo courtesy of Threat Poet

What can I say about the reservation that hasn’t been echoed in sentiments from friends and family? It’s the one place that we as Native Americans can flock to when the going gets a little tough. I never really visit that place due to my own personal reasons. But the real people that reside in those special places, i.e. Relatives and Friends, resonate within my own life and makes me reflect on how well it is that I’m doing. My Grandmother lives there, as well as my Aunts and a bunch of Uncles. It’s family. “Familia” is the word that I love to use. It’s a beautiful word that makes me feel all warm and complete inside.

I took a trip out to Albuquerque to see my favorite cousin, Shawn because it’s what I like to do when I feel some sort of urgency to just be myself. It was the second trip in a very short period of time but I was ecstatic to be out there in “the Duke City” once again.. The new vehicle he got is the epitome of what he’s worked toward his entire life, it’s his pride & joy. When he picked me up at the Albuquerque Sunport in that new truck…I could sense that a tide had turned for him. I consider myself privileged to see his joy.

For Memorial Day Weekend, I decided to join him and his family at Wheatfields Lake in the beautiful north country of Arizona. It was great. Fishing out there on a nice looking lake out there in the pine forests, heaven is the only word that comes to mind. An in-law of my cousin brought out some ATV’s to ride around. That really stuck out to me. I’ve always wanted to pilot one of those monsters and when the time came to ride out and react, I wasted no time. Within a few minutes I was ripping through those dirt roads and handling a 4-wheeler like a champ. It was completely epic and it reminded me so much of how my cousin and I have grown, from riding around on ATV’s with him as adults to how we used to push our bicycles to the limit on the dirt roads that surrounded our Grandma’s house when we were kids. Those moments were tantamount to how I felt as a kid. It was monumental.

The gorgeous scenery was the only distraction that kept my mind off of anything negative. The kicker came when we finally packed up and left that lake in the rear view mirror a few days later. A good friend of my cousin let us fire off a single-barrel shotgun at his spread of land. I’m not too much of a “gun guy” but I tell you, firing off that weapon and reloading like a pro was therapy enough to me.

My cousin and I made a pit stop on the way back to civilization. We stopped at our Grandma’s place and we visited her as well as other relatives that were present. It was so great to see her. It was a welcoming presence.  It was awkward to me because I hadn’t shaved or showered or even attempted to look presentable to my loved ones. Emanating in your own bodily funk for a few days really makes you ponder your station in life. The visit to Grandma’s was totally beneficial.

But the one remaining thought that stuck with me was the fact that my family loves me. They care for me and they know when something is wrong.  I pride myself on still being so close to my Grandma. I think I know why some people call their Grandmas “Big Mama”. It just makes total sense now.