 |
 |
| All I Want Is The Dirt by � kanee I stood in the garden where my family had gardened for nearly 90 years on a hot day in the middle of August, soon after I buried my father. That same spot out back, where my great-grandparents, my grandparents and my parents all raised vegetables to feed their families. I could almost see the cow tied up out back, bawling to be milked. And there is grandmother at the well that stands there still. And grandfather, still in his work clothes, just home from work, hoeing and raking in the hot sun, knowing that grandmother is about to bring a cool drink of water from the well. I remember how proud he was of the giant cantaloupes he grew one summer. And then I see my father, alongside my mother, long after her parents were gone, and her on her hands and knees, pulling weeds, sowing seeds and struggling so hard to draw in a breathe of air as she fought the emphysema that eventually took her. That little piece of tilled up land was her life, except for us kids. She had nothing else and she wanted nothing else. She had that little piece of land that was her birthright and that was all that mattered to her. She was rich. And I stood in the dirt where my family had shed so much sweat, had earned their blisters and calluses, and I knew that I was not alone. They are there, in that dirt, tiny bits and pieces of them, physically and in spirit. They belonged to that dirt and it belonged to them. And together they worked together to keep their families alive, they and mother earth. And now the wolves are at the door. After 90 years, the time has come that our family has to let that little piece of land go. The time will soon be here. I�ve not told my husband yet, but I want the dirt in that garden. I have to sell the homestead, but the dirt in that garden is my family, and it belongs to me. And I can no more sell it than I can sell the graves where they are buried. Oh, he�ll throw a fit, because he thinks that is his job. But I will have that dirt. And come spring when I am on my hands and knees sowing seeds and pulling weeds, my family will be there with me, smiling. |
