Grass Roots

We are visiting my cousin who lives just across the border in South Dakota.  She had phoned to warn us that things were a bit chaotic in her house with renovations, visitors, new babies and two weddings to plan.  I hardly expected her to serve a meal to no less than a dozen of the extended family, with guests' ages ranging from 7 months to 90 years. My mother and her brother, both British born, are the reason for this gathering. My cousin was brought up in Japan, me in Brazil, and yet we have both ended up settling in the Midwest and becoming a part of large connected families. She has 11 children and I don't know how many grandchildren. Only as we are leaving do I realize that one guest at the table is not a relative, but just someone who needed a home and the family have taken in.

We then move on to the second reason for our trip, a visit to my aunt who lives with Alzheimer's in a home in Pipestone, MN. She ignores us and our awkwardness as we sit round a table in the lounge.  We make small talk and try to remember the great lady we knew and loved. Then another resident rolls up, deaf as a doorknob, and starts up a conversation.  My uncle tries to introduce us and the lady replies, "No, thanks, I've already had a cupcake today." I look over at my aunt and she is smiling.  The visitor continues to ramble on, "I'm down to three sodas at a time, and I have them all in the fridge in packs of  three, but someone keeps taking them." I look at my aunt and she replies, "I didn't take them!" She is laughing now. We watch another resident scoot into a room and be chased out by the staff.  "He's always coming into my room.  I just push him out because everyone here is busy." My aunt slaps the table, "I just give him a smack!" And suddenly she was back to her old self gossiping about the other residents and laughing with us at their strange antics. She couldn't remember her own children, but she certainly knew the going's on of the home where she lived.

We couldn't leave Pipestone without a quick visit to the Pipestone National Monument.  I don't know what I expected.... towering rock, carved memorial perhaps.  Instead we found an area of grassland and a visitor center about to close. The gift shop was still open and we saw a collection of beautifully carved peace pipes out of the red clay rock. I know now that this is a sacred place reserved as a quarry for several tribes from the area. The pipes made from this stone have special significance and meaning. But there is not much to see. Maybe if I took a hike I could find more that was photo-worthy.
I left my mother resting in the shade while I took a quick outing onto the prairie. Looking down into a hole I saw a floor of exquisite mottled red rock.  All around the hole the prairie spread with grasses and wild flowers.  I identified wild sage and milkweed.  Above me the swallows flew across the expansive sky.  I felt a lightness that comes from being in wide open spaces on a beautiful day.

It was hard to turn away and get into a hot car.  My family has roots and branches in England, Japan and Brazil, yet we have come to settle on the prairie, far from the crowded cities we once lived in.  And when I spend time with my family I find we don't spend much time reminiscing about our past, but revel in the present.  We appreciate family, celebrate a new birth and follow each other's achievements. My aunt kept saying, "I'm just so thankful..."  It is one thing to be thankful of what life has been, but it is what surrounds her now that makes her smile. We are here... let's celebrate just being here and take the time to enjoy what surrounds us.