… I’m not sure I understood what it meant to you to come out, despite all the beatings. Not until last fall when I took you to Kachina Village when your illness was getting worse.
I remember you walking slowly between the trees early in the morning, just a little away from our holiday cottage, as if you were feeling your way through the forest.
‘What are you looking for’, I asked?
Obsessing about our imagined native ancestry, like always, you looked back at me and said something about the native name for the village – kachina. I only remember this part, though:
“ … kachina has to do with the idea that there is life in everything in the world – rocks, trees, people. Everything has an essence or a life force, and we have to connect with that life force.”
“Or what?” I asked, in good spirits, because I had just made coffee, and you looked a bit comical out there among the pines in your bathrobe.
But then you looked at me in that strange way and said:
” … Or we die.”
And then I understood.