Memories

Come in, grab some blankets. I might have to get some more wood to keep the blaze really going because it's so damn cold out. I've been inside for fifteen minutes and my feet are still cold. I've got some veggies, some hard boilled eggs, and some dip to enjoy, tuck in.

I sat playing chess with my Uncle Brian one day. We were talking and I was telling him stories. He kept chuckling so I asked him 'What's so funny?' 'You sound like your grandfather. He knew everyone's story. Told it the best. You have the gift. You can help people.' We finished the game, I sac'd my queen to lull him into a false sense of security, and as he pressed an attack, I checkmated him with my rooks. 'Help people how Uncle Brian?' He leaned back and shook his head. 'You come back, we'll talk.'

We kept meeting for chess every now and then. Talking about stories, and the family. A boyfriend of one of my aunts who was a Sioux medicine man told my Uncle one day that there was another family, jealous of ours, and they had cursed us. Dad was the target, but also managed to keep the curse from the rest of us with his sacrifice. Dunno how much I believe in the last part, but I can believe the curse. Despite my family being written about glowingly still by many Indian writers, we have all fallen by the wayside, wastes of what was once a glorious line of leaders.

He looked at me and said 'I told you wrong. You can't help no one.' I was puzzled and said so. He replied, 'Best you can do is tell your stories Rich. If people get it, then good. They'll help themselves. If not, then they need to find their soul and retake themselves.' It's taken me a long time to completely puzzle out what that meant but I think I understand it.

I talk a lot. I tell stories. I entertain and enliven, but I have a message. And it comes through. I live as an example and do what I can for those that will take the message forward.