Grandfathers Call to Me

Nov 05
by Brenda Culbertson, Kansas, U.S.A.

BrendaCulberstonGrandfathersCalltoMe 800

My grandfathers call to me, “Come out and visit!”
I hear the call, so I climb out of bed, wrap myself in a blanket, and put on my moccasins.
“What are you doing?” my husband asks, stirring from his sleep.
“I’m going outside,” I answer quietly as he turns over and sleeps again.

Without turning on lights, I walk to the door and go outside.
The night is not cold. I am wrapped in a blanket and in my Grandfathers’ smiles.

“Hello, Grandfathers,” I say as I look up into their eyes.
“Hello, Grandmothers,” I laugh out loud as my vision adjusts to the smaller points of light.
“We have not visited for a long time,” one Grandfather says to me
as I sit, look up, and listen to the night.

The soft breeze crosses my face,
like Grandmother’s fingers did when I was younger and she brushed my hair from my eyes.
Owl calls out in his deep voice,
as Grandfather did when he laughed at a silly thing I did when I learned to dance.
Coyotes sing nearby, but not too close,
letting me know they are out visiting their ancestors, too.

We have a nice visit, the old ones and I.
Some of them grow tired and go to bed, but others come out to talk.
I sit in the presence of my elders, and I listen, respectfully.
Long into the night, I sit to hear what they have to say.
They tell me much, but not in words as much as in the feeling that I am not alone.

I will one day join my ancestors and smile on my granchildren
as my elders do with me.
They will know to not be afraid to wrap in a blanket and sit in the night
to have a nice visit with their grandmother and those from long ago.

The night continues, and we run out of things to say,
my ancestors and I.
My husband brings out coffee,
and we watch the golden sky take over so the elders can all rest.
The visit was good, and I am happy Grandfathers called me outside.

Image credit:  Brenda Culbertson

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