Country Roads

and caring for our elders

I just got back a roll of mystery film to discover last years visit to West Virginia where I spent time with my grandfather, a bloodline that runs deep in Appalachian wisdom and tragedy.

We always take a ride to the cemetery and talk to his parents, placing items at their tombstones. This time it was a porcelain dog for his brother, Larry that passed away when he was just seven.

I’m the eldest and only granddaughter on this side. My grandfather treasures this and never lets me forget. He lets me poke his ears with needles to receive ear acupuncture. He sits in a chair that I’ve set up for him, answering questions I have of his childhood, his teen years, his thoughts and struggles, the moments in his life that have brought him so much joy. He pauses often, his eyes watering sometimes, I sense the discomfort as he’s never been asked questions like this and given the space to reflect and share. I am gentle with him though and bring him a lemonade.

There is a lot to unravel as there surely always is when we dig into the depths of generations before us. I have recorded mine and my grandfather’s whole conversation and my brother who has always felt deeply called to the medicine of these mountains listens next to the fireplace.

Ask your elders questions, the ones they’ve never been asked before, call them and send letters, don’t wait until they have died to call on them, and if they died, call on them, they listen and speak names and stories and love, scoop and collect graveyard dirt for yourself and your friend, cast spells and talk to the land, study your lineage and practice what resonates 🦌

With reverence and care,
Lex