How Time Flys

My sister told me after she died that time isn't the same where she is. She said she can visit heaven, the ever-lasting happy place, and Valhalla. I looked up Valhalla and she is a fit for that hall for warriors too.

Now I know everyone doesn't get messages from their loved ones and I have only received two. First my mom and then my sister. I was awake for both of them. My mom died in 2009 and my sister in 2010. I do not drink or take drugs.

I'm sure I was distraught for my mom's message. Not for my sisters' message.

Medicine wheel teachings taught me growing up that before there was man or women on this planet, there were spirits. Before all of the critters were on this planet, and before we all had names, there was the Creator and his helpers.

There were yellow people in the Eastern direction, Red people where I am living now, black people in the west, and white people in the north direction.

My people did not want to leave the Creator, so we got here a bit after the others. The Creator promised to always be there for us and gave us kinickinick or asema to use when we pray. When we need to be heard. It was a promise. It is used in much the same way as Catholics use the rosary.

We were told to care for the earth, our mother as then all our needs would be cared for. We would have air to breathe, water to drink, fire for heat and to cook, and the earth with all the structure needed to grow food and build shelter.

We were taught a language that contained everything we would ever need to know! Who could know that it would be a language that many would lose? A language that would need to be relearned. A language that only a few would know fluently today.

There are lessons and values in story form. The language was not a written one although there are petroglyphs and birch bark scrolls. Today, there are noted dialect differences.

After my mother died she told me to pray for my siblings as she is already with God. That helped me to feel better. First that there is a God and second that she is with God.

My mother told lots of stories when I was growing up. Those stories with the lessons, values, and morals! She told stories oftentimes that didn't always have a beginning, middle, and ending. She didn't always follow the rules, either of the English language or of our culture cops.

She told us, for example when we were picking blueberries, in the middle of summer that nanaboozhoo was walking through the woods and was scared by a little black critter that was coming out of the brush. We are supposed to talk of nanaboozhoo only in the dark with snow on the ground.

She went on to say that Nanaboozhoo just that quick, tapped that critter on the top of the head and on his back end and he immediately had a white strip down his back and an odor like no other. We knew who she was talking about.

And some of us knew that meant not being too quiet in the woods if we didn't want to become something we didn't care to become. When I told my auntie what mom said, she laughed and said, "Your mom is afraid of bears taking your berries, so she wants you to make noise!"

Then she said that we didn't have to worry about bears as our mom would fight any old bear for our berries! And with 5 of us, she was sure there would be no quiet!

I remember as a kid thinking that the day would never get over while we were picking berries. I don't remember it being as bad as my brother though when he cried out, "All I can smell is berries!"

Now it is a wonder how it was just June and we are already in the middle of July! How can that happen so fast? It seems that summer goes by so fast and winter can drag on and on!

I will always remember my father-in-law saying that when you retire, every day is Saturday and every night is Friday night! And now that I am retired I would say that the weeks fly by so fast, that we hardly have any weekdays left!