What is Life

Happy Mid-week everyone! Today’s person of the week is someone very special to me. She is a lady with so much character and personality; she is someone who has always pushed me to be better in my education and work ethic; she is my Nalí (paternal grandmother). Honestly, this lady here could fill up multiple blog articles with her life and the accomplishments she achieved, as well as the obstacles she overcame. But through it all, to me she is just “Grandma Rosy”. In light of recent events, I find it quite important to maintain the relationships with our elders; because we never know when it will be the last day we may see someone we love. And so after an enlightening trip to the coast of San Diego, I made a pit-stop in Hoozhdoh (Phoenix, AZ) and made sure I had a nice visit with my grandmother. On my last visit with her, I bought us some delicious cupcakes and chatted with our sweets and hot tea. However, this visit she had just taken her updated flu and covid vaccines, and she wasn’t so much in a chipper mood as she always is. But we still had a great conversation. We talked about a lot of things, but the primary focus I wanted to write about was her upbringings in Tuba City, AZ. 

But before I get into our conversation, I think it would be important to speak on my relationship with my grandmother. It is a complex but loving connection. I wholeheartedly love my Nalí, but to be frank, we did not always get along well throughout most of my childhood. In her younger years, my grandmother had expressed herself as someone who was strong-willed, confident, opinionated, and very much a fiery talker. Looking back, I admire the person she was; because now I realize the amount of hardships and mountains (figuratively) her generation and demographic overcame. It was certainly a different era for Native Americans, and she gracefully bit her bullet and kept going. And as I said earlier, she is truly an inspiration when it comes to facing hardships; she was and will always be a strong figure that I look up to in my life. But when I was a child, I didn’t see any of her strength. No, in fact, I was actually really scared of her. And it wasn’t that she was mean, I was just a soft-kid. Meaning, I cried easily. And my grandmother’s fiery personality would always make me cry. I know she meant well for a lot of things; and I know she wanted me to be tougher because she knew the world was tough, but I was just raised in a different family-dynamic. And this was difficult for both of us to understand each other. Like a lot. In fact, I was more close with my grandpa Arturo. But our connection was also such a complicated relationship as well. He was always the more gentle grandparent that I was easily-able to connect with, but his tendency to abruptly take-off and disappear was something I had learned to accept. He had his own problems he dealt with; at times I wished I could have helped him more, but his choices were his and I couldn’t do anything more if I wanted to. Despite the complicated history with these two, I had and will always love them. They helped shape me who I am today. 

A few years back, my grandma Rosy had suffered her second heart stroke and that had left half of her body in a paralysis situation. And the more she ages, the more of her memories and perception of reality slowly deteriorates. The once fiery grandmother that I grew up with has now become a different person. The once strong and independent woman now relies on the help of others. And if I could, I would be there to help her in any way possible–all the time–in the best way I could. Because she absolutely deserves it. But unfortunately, life has different paths for us all. So when I can, I make our time together absolutely special. For example, during this recent visit, I bought her some frybread and vegetable soup from the Frybread House. She absolutely loved it! She said she smelled the fresh bread a mile away! “Only the best for her” is my motto. And it’s weird, because now our relationship is completely different. There could be multiple reasons for this dynamic shift: like me getting older and realizing her strength, her learning to rely on others, the softness and vulnerability that comes with age, or the mutual understanding of one another. But whatever the reason it may be, I absolutely smother her with love. I also think that there is always such a unique connection with male grandsons and their paternal grandmothers. I mean, they are the ones that raised our fathers. So it is always a treat visiting my Nalí.

Well, I suppose I should now write about the conversation I had with my grandmother. I think it’s important to note that most of what my grandmother shares should be taken with a “grain of salt”. Most of her memories are valid, but are often misread. She sometimes switches the names and locations with other relatives and places. And when she talks, she has this way of assuming that I know all the locations and people she speaks about. So conversing with her can be a bit tricky, because I don’t know if the person and location she speaks about is the person or location she intends to speak on. Regardless, she is quite the talker and she always has something to say. And despite the deciphering, I’m just happy to spend time with her and document a portion of her life with my blog.

“Grandma, where are you from” is the first question I started with to begin our conversation. She replied by saying she is originally from Tuba City, Arizona. Her house is located on the far right corner of her family’s homesite. She was actually born in that exact house; right next door to the trailer (I have no idea whose trailer she is referring to). She has six siblings: Willis, Angie, Orville, Rena, Darlene, and Richard. Only three of her siblings are still alive. I believe the other three passed away before I could make a facial connection to their names. But I do have memories of the other two that are still alive. My grandmother did forget about one of the siblings, so I had to verify the number of the exact siblings with my father.

Both of my grandmother’s parents are relatively from the same area. Her mother is from Tuba City and her father is from Howell Mesa, which is about a 12 hour walking distance southeast of Tuba City (roughly a 32 minute drive). They had met when they were kids while attending the Fort Wingate Boarding School. Which is crazy, because that is all the way in New Mexico; it’s about 3 hours east of their homesite. If one were to walk, it would take them 3 days walking non-stop (google maps). I like to include “Walking/time-distance” because it was a different era, different demographic and economic situation for Native Americans as opposed to the rest of the country at that time. And the way my grandmother described her parents meeting was actually really cute. They both traveled to the Boarding school together and stayed there for the school year. And when it was time to return back home for the summer, they both stayed an extra few days to spend time together before heading back home. They were childhood sweethearts. Eventually, they got married and had kids. My grandmother’s mother worked at the Tuba City Hospital as a “Blue Girl”. I couldn’t find anything about that job title online, so I am assuming she meant a “Candy Striper Girl”, which was a title for hospital volunteers. She said her dad tried to work at the hospital, but didn’t seem to enjoy the setting; instead, he went to find a better job at the Navajo Outlet Store. He found more solace and financial stability at this place.

The other question I wanted to ask was, “Did your parents always live in that area all their life?” My grandmother replied by saying that her mom’s family have always lived in Tuba City. But her father’s family had migrated to Howell Mesa a long time ago. She said that they came up from the otherside of the canyon, which was a path that they have now made into a paved road. Growing up, my grandmother said that they would take the backroad and drive upward toward her Nálí Yázhí’s (my grandmother’s paternal grandmother) home toward the mesa. But this route was not always ideal, because it was sandy and their vehicle would always get stuck. The other route was to drive downward from an elevated area to her home. My grandma Rosy loved her Nálí Yázhí; it was evident on the way her face lit up when she spoke about her. She said Nálí Yázhí used to live down in the valley area below the Mesa because her sheep were able to find more grass in those areas, but moving upward onto a ledge of a Mesa was more ideal and stable. And being on top of the Mesa, you can see Moenkopi Village off in the distance. 

Talking to my grandmother got me really intrigued about Nálí Yázhí, because this was the first time hearing about her. I suppose she might have mentioned her before, but I never paid attention like I was when sitting next to her while nibbling on a frybread. Well, Nálí Yázhí was married to a man named George Bencrop. He had brought his mother to live with him and Nálí Yázhí on the mesa. My grandma Rosy described George’s mother as a big lady. She was such a large person, that people called her Big Nálí. She said that Big Nálí didn’t leave the house very often. She said that it was difficult climbing down the canyon and climbing back up. So my grandma Rosy’s parents had to haul water from the wells and take it up to the mesa toward the house. Water pipelines were not common in that area. After realizing the difficulties of the area, I think Nálí Yázhí moved to Red Lake area. Red Lake is next to Tonalea, AZ (11 hour walking distance/ 48 minute drive from the Mesa home). And at the new home, it was much easier to access. They built a corral and a hooghan (traditional navajo home) for Nálí Yázhí; she lived a full life with all her grandchildren and had tons of family ceremonies and events. My grandma Rosy remembers most of the protection songs her family sang while growing up. She said her family was huge in the ceremonial way. But today, she isn’t connected to anything regarding ceremonies anymore. 

To me, this conversation was absolutely amazing and informative. I know she wanted to keep on talking, but she was getting tired. I wanted her to keep on talking, because she was just about to get into the story about how she had lived with a Mormon family in Utah. But that will have to wait for the next time I see her. Thank you all for reading this week’s blog post! I already have my next person lined up for next week, so keep a lookout for a new posting! Blessings to all.