Charles Henry


It’s been a long while since I did something like this… since I wrote you in any manner. I remember when I was a child, mom would make me write you and Grandma thank-you notes for the birthday money. I’d burn through those notes so quickly. I remember them: Dear Grandpa and Grandma. Thank you for the money. I will use it for college and for books. I miss you very much. Again thank you for the money. Love Jarrod.

It was, I suppose, the first experience I had with form letters. Now, years later, I can look back somewhat embarassed at this, but somewhat accepting of the childish nature that I held. I remember the day you went West. It’s etched in my memory. I remember the hundreds if not thousands of people at your mass. I remember being told, over and over, that you were someone special. That I was someone special.

I may have been adopted, but you never let me feel that way. You insisted I not feel that way. You did more to make me feel a part of your family, your life, your world… and for that, I am extremely grateful.

When the Nisut did her divination for me, she said my Akhu were there for me. Strong. Powerful.

We both know who she was speaking of.

With love, your grandson,