Friday, June 12, 2020
This man, Chick Aitchison, the husband of my dear colleague, Linda, now journeys where the ancestors have gone and beyond what I know, and I am grieving such loss. But, Chick left me with no greater respect than a man can feel for another. It is with such respect that I write these words. Whenever I would look up at an audience I would be addressing over the years, and see Chick sitting somewhere among them, or even feel his presence, I would know that I not only had to be at my best, for he deserved nothing less, but should I need support, or perhaps protection, he was there. Or Linda was there. Or Chick and Linda were there together, and maybe even one of their loving and incredible children. They had my back. Never a better feeling going into battle, than knowing such brave hearts had my back. Chick’s presence, and theirs, empowered me to say the things that I felt I was invited to say, things that need to be said, that we must love and respect our Mother, the Earth. We must learn our history. We must evolve passed the horrors of war that weigh so heavily on each generation. That we must respect and care for the animals and trees, and plants, and one another. That we are in our hearts, the Indigenous people of this Earth. That Chick and Linda would be present at any of these presentations, filled me with a kind of love where I feared nothing, for they were the embodiment of those words. Several years ago, I was writing Motherless, and as I was trying to imagine an audience I was writing for, and so often Chick and Linda would be among those in my mind’s audience of readers. Sometimes I would write for them. I would create a chapter in Motherless for him, or share a lesson from a father or grandfather character that he would appreciate. I wrote so he could feel proud. Maybe, with the guidance of my own heart, I was hoping to find ways to express what was in his heart as well. And, oh man, Chick shared with my life companion Amy, not only the DNA of Indigenous people, but that insidious disease, that relentless monster, Diabetes, that has raked our people over. They shared an understanding for life and survival and a will to live that between them, never needed words to express, and a love and respect for one another, a love and respect that foreshadowed the one day, it did and would, with its cold indifference, debilitate them, but not without having to face the courage of the warrior heart, nor the warrior spirit. His spiritual presence as I believe, is all around, and the energy, the beautiful and loving energy of the beloved warrior, is now a part of the Earth’s energy, the Sky’s energy, the energy of the Great Mystery, and so I would say, we can draw strength in knowing that, and meet the challenges ahead, drawing power from our memories of him, and from the energy he poured back into the Mystery. For us who are still young and have more time on this Earth, and for those of us whose time is shorter, to find time to be humble and kind, to make time to love and cherish those around us, and like Chick, to try and use our time here on Mother Earth to live good lives, for our families, for the Earth, and for our People, and to leave our beloveds with all the power that our love can muster and give back or give voice while we are still in these bodies. Our legacy is what we leave behind, and Chick’s life companion Linda, his loving and bright children, and his new grandchild, his relatives, and friends, and the path he has walked shows that there is not a greater legacy. Not in my book. Not in any of my books. And, he will as long as I am able to write, or speak, be an essential part of the audience present in my mind that I am representing, and those I am writing for…. And if ever I become afraid, I can take a deep breath, think of him, and think of Linda, and I know they’ve got my back.
Gabriel Horn (White Deer of Autumn)
