Going through my mom’s garage, we found some things.Â These are the mittens and mukluks I wore when I was a little kid, all made by my mom:
This is a parka my mom made for me out of the skin of an unborn caribou that an elder gave her for me when I was a baby:
This was my toy phone.Â I didn’t really know what a phone was, except that my mom would talk into it and then hand it to me, and turn the knob.
And these are my first shoes, my baby shoes that a woman who was like a godmother to me (it was her husband who fished my dad out of the river, all those years ago) made:
We found them in a box with a letter, saying that my mother was sending the shoes to her mother for safekeeping, that we were heading out to trapline in a couple days and my mom was sending Christmas presents now, that they had paid $300 and 50 fish for a freezer on someone’s porch, and that I was pretty grumpy (“maybe it’s that tooth, or maybe that she’s spoiled”) and almost potty trained.