Kahinumdum
Life is fleeting. People change and evolve, shaping ourselves into the mold created by hardships and success. Change is inevitable for life to prosper. My grandma made sure we understood that. She engraved it into my sister’s and mine hearts before she couldn’t. Having divorced parents, life is always so different and constantly morphing.
I have moved a total of thirteen times, counting both sides. I’ve lived with a total of 3 other families, hearing new experiences and leaving with some of my own. Memories were birthed in large open yards that bled into fresh pine forests but also in cramped townhouses infested with rats every winter. Marble kitchen counter tops were covered in home-cooked visayan food and so were dumpster dove dining tables, but they both held the same warm conversations booming with laughter. My grandma has had the freedom to roam around the town via the access of a free pace bus, asking, “what’s your problem?”, to everyone she meets, then telling them how to navigate their way, preaching the words spoken from last Sunday’s mass, and hugging strangers’ babies. There were also times when I’ve seen her cooped up in her room, legs dull and thin from not going anywhere, eyes blank towards the same Filipino telesarye (Filipino soap operas) that has been running for the past 6 hours, the scent of laundry, crushed garlic, and earth lingering on her hands and vestida. Her prayers at night have been silent but strong, her hand dashing across the pages of her prayer book writing a psalm for everyone on the earth, even those who have cursed her. Some nights they were passionate cries and preaches at night praying for the guidance down “the right path”. Large changes have occurred, from household to lifestyle that I often forget I face a small switch every week for the past 11 years of my life.
No matter my circumstances, my mind always resonated with what’s going on around me but also how it started. My grandma, or my Lola, reminded me how life is transforming, she also made sure that we knew who we are from, where we are from, and what we are from, which reminded me of Joy Harjo’s poem. “Remember the earth whose skin you are”, is a line that strongly captured my grandmothers message. She told me to connect back to the soil on which I came from and the soil my parents came from, even if you are on new land. To live as an American, but love as a Filipino. The earth is a place that holds our stories, our connections, and our life— she wanted us to be aware of that, even with the spontaneous course of a river that life sails on. Joy Harjo’s lines and stanzas are like my grandma is whispering in my ear from across the world, reiterating her values that she installed in me. Here is Remember by Joy Harjo:
Joy Harjo - 1951-
Remember the sky that you were born under,
know each of the star's stories.
Remember the moon, know who she is.
Remember the sun's birth at dawn, that is the
strongest point of time. Remember sundown
and the giving away to night.
Remember your birth, how your mother struggled
to give you form and breath. You are evidence of
her life, and her mother's, and hers.
Remember your father. He is your life, also.
Remember the earth whose skin you are:
red earth, black earth, yellow earth, white earth
brown earth, we are earth.
Remember the plants, trees, animal life who all have their
tribes, their families, their histories, too. Talk to them,
listen to them. They are alive poems.
Remember the wind. Remember her voice. She knows the
origin of this universe.
Remember you are all people and all people
are you.
Remember you are this universe and this
universe is you.
Remember all is in motion, is growing, is you.
Remember language comes from this.
Remember the dance language is, that life is.
Remember.
know each of the star's stories.
Remember the moon, know who she is.
Remember the sun's birth at dawn, that is the
strongest point of time. Remember sundown
and the giving away to night.
Remember your birth, how your mother struggled
to give you form and breath. You are evidence of
her life, and her mother's, and hers.
Remember your father. He is your life, also.
Remember the earth whose skin you are:
red earth, black earth, yellow earth, white earth
brown earth, we are earth.
Remember the plants, trees, animal life who all have their
tribes, their families, their histories, too. Talk to them,
listen to them. They are alive poems.
Remember the wind. Remember her voice. She knows the
origin of this universe.
Remember you are all people and all people
are you.
Remember you are this universe and this
universe is you.
Remember all is in motion, is growing, is you.
Remember language comes from this.
Remember the dance language is, that life is.
Remember.
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