-
When I close my eyes and think of my home place
- The American Indian Quarterly
- University of Nebraska Press
- Volume 29, Number 1&2, Winter/Spring 2005
- pp. 226-227
- 10.1353/aiq.2005.0033
- Article
- Additional Information
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The American Indian Quarterly 29.1&2 (2005) 226-227
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When I close my eyes and think of my home place
Temashio Anderson
I can hear my grandma Mables gentle voice and laughter as we talked
in the evening with only a kerosene lamp and radio being our
guests,
I can hear the fine-grained sand growing in intensity during the
evening as it hits the outside of our doors and windows,
I can hear the water starting to boil on our wood stove for my
nightly bath,
I can hear my grandma singing Christian songs softly in Diné
language as she spun her wool,
I can hear our roosters expressing themselves freely every morning
and evening.
These are things I can hear when I close my eyes . . .I can see the sun rising slowly above Huerfano Mountain with the
rooster greeting the new day,
I can see the billy goats and baby sheep running up and me smiling
instantly because this is such a special feeling,
I can see my grandma pulling up in her white Ford-100 pickup as she
picked me up from Bible school,
I can see the many dirt roads that never seem to end,
I can see the old green outhouse that always seemed to get farther
and farther out of reach when you needed it most.
These are things I can see when I close my eyes . . .I can smell mutton stew cooking as I wake up out of bed,
I can smell the wet dirt after a monsoon rain, [End Page 226]
I can smell a strong musky odor coming from the sheep as they came
up to feed,
I can smell the dust from the tile floors as I sleep and dream,
I can smell the toasting sage in the middle of the hot afternoon.
These are things I can smell when I close my eyes . . .I can feel my grandmas soft satin long sleeve shirt and matching
dress as she holds me in her lap telling me a story of the old ways,
I can feel my grandma's warm blankets wrapping me every night as
I go to sleep,
I can feel the warmth of the sun and the dry hitting me as I wake up
every morning,
I can feel the warm sand as I walk barefoot to play outside.
These are things I can feel when I close my eyes . . .I can taste the small sand grains between my teeth as a windstorm
starts to come,
I can taste the kneel-down-bread with steamed corn and green
chili stew,
I can taste the fresh Diné tea, brewed by my grandma every morning,
I can taste the sweet corn pollen being placed in my mouth every
morning as my grandma did her morning prayers.
These are things I can taste when I close my eyes . . .