I loved growing up next to my Grandma and Grandpa Johnson. Before an entire village let me help them raise their kids, I would babysit my napping grandparents. Papa would be reclined on his brown recliner, to me it was his throne because even though he had a colorful past he was loved and that’s between him and God and belongs in the by and by. My grandmother was grace and beauty in living form. She had the hands of an angel because she created everything she made out of love. She usually fell asleep along with Papa working on one of her creations. I would sit on the floor practicing solitaire with cards or look through her magazines and see the world through what she chose to read. Her mother’s love never failed, never ended and stood the test of all ages and lives on in her children, all Mommas have this love for their kids, but a lot weren’t shown how to love. I cracked up every time my Papa asked for his cane I would try to bring him his Cookie Monster cane full of gadgets. I really wanted him to just honk the horn on it and use it but I would end up getting his plain cane with a hook on the end. I remember when there was no addition to the pink house and would sit in the back being so proud of Johnsons lake, it was pretty then. I grew up in love. That was my nickname love. And each Aunt or Uncle had a special nickname for me and I remember each one. My favorite part of the year wasn’t Christmas it was the end of the year. Where we gathered at my Grams and ate our traditional food on New Year’s Eve, talk about starting the year right. Gerd whatchya doin? Babysitting my grandma and grandpa. No matter how old I get I don’t say no unless I’m sick or unable to babysit because every time you make a baby smile an angel sends you a kiss from heaven. Every time you make one cry, God himself will cry with that baby. That is why I did my best to be the best babysitter in Unalakleet. I was raised in love. It literally took a Village to raise me. My Grandma gave the best mucks (kisses) because she was an angel on this earth. When I found out my mom balled her out drunk about my dad I was mad beyond understanding, I gave it to God. To me they are both love and a mother can only do so much and that’s raise her children in love to create a better world for them. After that I didn’t go see my Gram because of the likeness physically I share with my mom. I didn’t want her to think I was my mom. I watched my Grandpa pass away on his throne on this earth surrounded by love as he took his last breaths. I watched my Grandma pass away as she was surrounded by love singing Jesus Loves Me. I have the memories of a lifetime and they are mine. I keep the best ones to myself or they slip out in laughter. My Grandmas love will carry on just like my moms love. There was no hate between them only the question why. Why. We are the generation of healing and love. Our people endured all things hate and love and we still operate out of love. Love.