Spanish Pastoral simplicity and happiness.
My grandmother raised her two daughters alone after my grandfather split. Years later she took my mother and me in. Eleven years later she took me in. Three years later she took me in again. Between then and now I crashed over at her place a lot and spend time with her in her kitchen. We talked about family and cooking and spirituality.
My grandmother always gave me some cash and food before I would leave her house. She taught me medicine and a bit about agriculture. She never pushed religion on me but was happy to have me join her at church on Saturdays.
When I got a Mohawk she said I looked handsome and modern.
She has a tendency to mention how she will be dying soon but with a twinkle in her eye knowing she is a lot healthier and younger looking than most folks her age.
My grandma tended to give me what I gave and was happy about the simplest things like time and company. She sometimes nagged and bitched but really she was very happy to have me around. Even a phone call made her happy. I think I get that from her.
Her and my aunt conspire always to send me clothes and money. I have more money than I have ever had before and so many clothes yet they send me both still since I moved out to Portland.
My Grandmother taught me ways to eat healthy and to make medicine and care for my body with things from the dirt. Because of her I could catch, kill, and cook my own food when I was in a pinch. I was able to fight off colds and walking pneumonia.
I want to tell you about her while she is alive. I want her to know I have at least written about her once. I am not much for memorials. When someone is dead they are gone. Gracias, Abuela. Thanks for still betting on me, after all my falls. I hope you feel it paid off.