The first days. HOPE chapter 3

  Ray and I raced up and down the Oregon coast. We went from the big trees of the red wood forests to Idaho border. we loved laughed and Made love ....Lots of making love in that bright red Super Sport.
I loved Idaho. It seemed full of mystery from it's desert beginnings to it's forested  border Nearly in Canada. It was four weeks of love and laughter and more love. Four weeks of blissful married
life, before he climbed onto that plane and flew off to become a soldier.

He hadn't wanted to be in the army. we had plans, big plans. These were plans he'd instructed
me to carry on without him. ME. I was seven TEEN! How was I to know a farm house
in Northern Idaho from some ocean front property in Arizona.  How was I to go on without him?


Ray, Well Ray was always there. he and I were different sides of the same coin.  I met him at my grandmother's home when I was so
very young. I was still in my braids!


I was learning things from Grandmother. She was
teaching me about the local herbs. How to warm elderberry before I tried to use it for
anything because the juice was not fit for human use till after it was warmed. She taught
me about the root of the Oregon Grape. How the old ones blessed it for those who
breathed hard and could not get enough air in their lungs to go on. How to ceremonially
clean these roots that it might be properly blessed to their bodies that they might live
a better life. I called this asthma. she called it by many names. None of them asthma! It
was to her I turned when he went to his first duty station in Viet Nam. It was she who
held me while I died the many deaths of loneliness! It was she who slowly coaxed me
back into life.


Grandmother knew of all the traditional fish trap areas of Idaho. she knew of the religions
teachings of our people. The legends of the old ones she learned as a child. She also
knew of the Missions of the Palouse. She said there were many sins against the tribe
committed at those missions. It was forbidden to speak the language of their fathers
at the mission ground. It was forbidden to speak of the legends of her people or the
healing herbs of her trade. The girls were not taught how to dress a deer or build
a home for she and her family. In the true custom of their people.....The woman always
owned the home. It was she who put it up and took it down when they were to travel.
It was she who picked from the wilds and preserved the food for winter. It was she
who waited by the low burning fire for her warrior to come home. These were all
subjects forbidden by the white man's church. It was she who sat by the fires
late at night and told us of the trickster'the coyote.

It was Grandmother who taught us the art of delivering a baby for a friend. She
taught us to dip a new born babe into the snow if it refused to fill it's lungs with
life giving breath! She taught us so many things of her way of life. Her ways
were not ours. It was better we learned them in case we needed to eat of the
Camus, cook a squirrel or:" hide" a buffalo.It was better that we knew them as
these life skills might just save our life some day.


She told of Chief Joseph's wild
flight to Montana. she knew him personally,She told of his love for the land
and the loss of so many to gain so little. She taught self sufficiency and life
skills. The one skill she could not teach was .....How I was go  on with out
Ray. How was I going to learn to stand on my feet and do what needed to
be done in his absence.. These things I had to learn for myself. She did teach
me to wait quietly and not show grief for those who had not died.. She taught
me to NOT look to much like a Native when dealing with the whites. She felt
It was the white man's job to steal from the Indian!

Slowly she taught me the ways. She taught me some medicine so I could
live without the white Dr. because they were not to be trusted. She taught
me how to make soap, tan hides and many of the ways of the old ones.
She taught me to wake early so I might ask thanks to the creator for this
Day. No matter what the Day brought,sun or rain it was a gift from
the creator and there was much good in it. She taught me how to pray
for the life of my man. She had prayed for many warriors by the time
she was my age. In the learning I felt my sorrow soften and my feelings
toward the white folks more and more turn against them.  Once again
she set my feet upon a new path. That was the path of friendship
toward those I didn't understand. It was to give me freedom from the
imbalance so many of us had. We never learned to live with our brothers.
One day only we would recognize the differences, It was better to
celebrate how we were alike!