She was born on the 10th of September at 4:30 a.m. PST in Fairbanks, Alaska. She is my newest granddaughter and the third blessed daughter of my eldest daughter, Enei and her husband, Evon. She joins a beautiful young family of four kids, the eldest being my grandson, Olav and his sisters Na NI eezh and Cheii lil.
I have yet to greet her personally. With great expectation, I await that moment. I will gaze upon that child and see the face of the whole world; the blood and histories of many cultures course through her veins. Upon their faces and the subtle gestures of their liveliness, I see my own strong and sacred forebears. Those proud and beautiful faces staring you down from faded old black-and-white photographs. Her mother, Enei, wears the name of LIFE with exclamation and truth. Her father is a leader of his people and both of them are an inspiration to many the world over. I am proud of that achievement and gift. There was a time when my daughter was introduced as Shonto’s child, now it is the other way ‘round. The little newborn girl is now in the midst of love and attention beneath the Northern Light. The light my people refer to as the campfire of the great gods of the Dineh pool (Dine’h Na ho’dloo’ Da Bi’ Ko’h).
I am a grandfather again. I am rejuvenated again. When I was very young, I looked at the faces of my grandfathers and saw great knowledge, great strength and the texture of the earth etched deep. I stared in locked respect and awe. I felt safe and away from any harm as long as I saw my elders present in my community. I felt loved and cared for in their strong voices casting early prayers into the dawn. I felt alive and validated. I can only hope she will feel that in some degree in her life. Now, we caress welcoming prayers over 3,000 miles apart.
Greeting a new child is never without great fanfare and prayers of Hozho upon each lips present. When the beautiful and holy first cry echoes into the blessed day, the eldest maternal aunt was given the honor of naming the child. A fortunate child generally ends up with a meaningful and pronounceable name. That is a creative aunt. That was how it used to be. Nowadays, anyone who is close to the child and respected is given the honor. My eldest granddaughter’s name is Na NI eezh, translated, “She leads (guides) them home,” in Dineh. Her younger sister, Cheii Lil, I always read it as meaning “she pulls along those who are tiring in their journey,” in Gwiichin, Athabaskan.
Naming a child—a girl child—has and always is a special undertaking for the family. My daughter asked me to think up one in Dineh. Whatever she ends up wearing, it will be special. My language and the language of my son-in-law are similar in its basic form. Dineh language is Athabaskan in origin. We just ended up down here with our Apache brothers and sisters in the Southwest. I suppose we had the moving-on fever way back when. In this manner, I see their names compatible and recognizable by the spirits. Names are endowed with strength, with spirit and hope. I look forward to voicing that beautiful melodic prayer name in time. It will be a name fitting well into the flow of ancient chants and prayers. I am happy to see my people naming their children power names of old; names that carry the weight of history, the beauty of the language and the gift of that knowledge. Then there are those names that are easily snatched from pages of celebrity rags. I will not go there.
This is the first stage of life’s celebration for this child. The cry of that first breath, then the first laugh, followed by the Kin aal da’, the coming of age into womanhood. The gifting of a talent or a calling. Marriage and elderhood. “Se’ a’ na ghaii’bi k,e hozho” (Into the old age of rebirthing in beauty).
Welcome, Ya’ ateeh, my beautiful granddaughter.
