Monday Memories—Life, Where All Your Dreams Come True

Ray and Cali began their reception program by introducing themselves through memories. Cali showed this picture and it reminded me of . . .

Calvin trapped beaver, badgers and coyotes and tanned the hides. He made things like a little pair of moccasins for Cali lined with rabbit fur, and a mountain man hat from a coyote pelt that hung all the way down your back. From the time she was tiny, Cali liked to climb up on a stool and watch Calvin skin the hides. She would sit there for hours and as she grew older asked him questions on what things were and how they worked. Everything about the process fascinated her—the muscles, the skin, the bones, the tendons—but . . . though she was fascinated . . . the experiences scarred her. She has nightmares still about coyotes peering in her window trying to get in and eat her (it seems to be a little red riding hood-ish), and if we walk late in the evening she often mentions something about a mad, man-eating coyote that might be hiding behind the grass on the ditch bank.

The night of the reception Cali, Ande and I were getting ready in my bathroom. The girls were curling their hair and I had gone into our adjoining bedroom to change my clothes. Completely distracted and thinking only of things I needed to take and remember to do, I went into the bathroom to get something. I didn’t even notice the girls stare . . . until I reached down to get something in front of them. I realized I was topless. I crossed my heart and hoped to die and cried, “Oh nooooo, it’s like those dreams where you go somewhere and forget to put your clothes on, only this is truuuuuue.” They laughed, cross-chattered and I swear I heard Cali humming “Hang low sweet chariot.” There will be scars.