Tuesday, July 24, 2007
One of the best things about moving home are the memories it brings back. There are certain things I see, hear, or even smell everyday that reminds me of growing up on the rez. (not burning trash!)
Like the big chokecherry tree in my backyard. I remember eating them till my mouth went numb and I couldn't taste anything else. I remember grinding them for a hunka grandma to make patties, wasna, and wojapi.
Timpsilas. Last month took my kids digging for them out on my dad's land. My grandma went digging with us, which was a good thing because I was trying to dig up some other plant that was not timpsilas. I forgot what they looked like. We walked all over but didn't find too much. Actually we found 8 of them and we all shared them. My kids could not believe how good they tasted. I think my dad felt bad that we only found 8. On his next trip into town, he brought me a braid of timpsilas, 3 fishing poles, and two puppies, who escaped kettle dance sentencing. (I won't even mention that in that same week, he gave my brother a Harley Davidson.) Not that I would RIDE a Harley, I loved the fishing poles, timpsilas, and puppies.
I remember the days when I was a child and we fished at Denby or East Dam, swam at East Dam, walked the hills for timpsilas, buffalo berries, and chokecherries.
I remember eating wasna to my little hearts content. Why do those days seem so far away. Maybe they are.
Now I know it is my job to keep some of the memories alive and going for my children.
Maybe someday they will write about how their mom thought she knew what timpsilas were and dug up a sticker plant instead. Ah...the summer memories we have and create on the rez.