On Becoming My Grandfather, a Memoir

my father talked to me i was about five years old he said i was cherokee but, he said, your mother decided she wants you to be raised different so i can only tell you this, this once and we'll never talk about it again i hear him now in my old age feet on desk, staring out the window i think i found the way to what he tried to tell me a communal sense of giving is what you are giving the best of what you decide to be i taught, and thought of childhood my own, and what my father gave to me all others, and what they should be my gift to all is this way of learning through craft of hands, through finger's play so i sit at ease to ponder, to maunder on to rest and sum up, to make sense of it all