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The first time she Saw him three decades later, she was taken back as He was now more beautiful than she'd remembered as a young girl. Everything from his eyes to his broad strong face and even the wrinkles around his eyes were all the perfect beautiful shade of brown, Indian Brown. But it wasn't until the next morning while driving him to see some old AIM warriors he'd led in armed battles in the early 1970s that She glanced down at his hands as he busily figured out how to operate her new car's satellite radio system. She glanced down briefly and had no idea why but felt an intense and sudden connection to some invisible but real link that touched her in such an unexpected way she felt her mouth open as she gasped in silence as She saw more beauty in his perfect strong brown hands than she had seen in the face of any man, ever. She knew not why but she was certain the strong and simple beauty she saw in his bronze-brown hands took her breath away. as her natural instict was instant as she opened her mouth to wanting to say, , "Your Hands. They're Beautiful." But She despite all visible signs She was as modern as any nonIndian woman nearing fifty years of age and way before being ranked as Top Speaker in numerous Collegiate Forensics tournaments, her one real gift was Public Speaking. She knew no fear when speaking before audiences of any size as long as she believed in her words and she had prepared she loved nothing more than feeling a connection with audiences. But She also knew the great weakness that had caused her more pain than She ever told anyone. The same gift of winning over large audiences with simple words She believed were True and reflective of what was GOOD had caused her such personal emotional pain. From her 20s she obeyed the traditional teachings of her eight Great Aunts, four Lumbee and four Tuscarora about holding back on amy admission, verbal or physical until he first professed his love for her first. She never once just called a man she loved to say, "Thinking of you" as her Great aunts had assured her, no self-respecting man wants the prey that any man can catch. So she held back and in time,once she felt safe revealing her true feelings with men she loved and after extended periods of time She always absolutely believed loved her and unbelievably, all ended badly and once a woman loves anyone deeply, She doesn't just stop loving the one who stoped loving her. Love doesn't work that way. Not for me, anyway. It takes months to years to silently heal from the pain of romantic love to betrayal of trusted friends and most are changed forever when betrayed by close family they love still but know did not love them as no one intentionally betrays a sibling or parent or child they love and then walks away. Betrayal by loved ones Destroys innocent loved ones. So the pros & cons of saying what She knew was true and what she knew was from a place deep within her that rarely pushed it's way through all the GuardRails and Rules & years of repeated warnings to any foolish Indian girl who dare break any of the traditional Ways of the self-respecting INDIAN GIRL who one day hopes and prays to be the wife of a respectable Indian man shocked her. You see, the Guardrails that took me quite some time time to express in written words, She processed in the amazing mind God gives us all that the fact the instinct to truly say to him what She knew was True and if true was GOOD but knew She had not the courage to change who She was when it came to matters of the heart and she was for goid or bad She did not know but she was not at her core, a traditional Indian "girl" , even nearing 50, She had many flaws but the voices of all the old Great Aunts , whether right or wrong, had become some distant star she used to navigate through her most personal relationships. The words had already formed from preimal instinctive into speakable syllables of human language that her mouth was open when what was once a reasonable rule for Her Great Aunts she in less than three seconds realized was now nothing more than an outdated Habit She Feared breaking. A traditional Tribal taboo that she immediately saw had cost her dearly. Yet even in that moment when the Holy Spirit that cheers us to be brave and speak Truth when Fear is near, She quickly closed her mouth and instead, touched his hand and said nothing but gently held it as she saw he had found the music channel he'd been searching for. She did not feel it odd nor uncomfortable in any way. She just held it and pulled it against the right side of face. She then briefly looked at his hands slowly as they waited for the end of a train to pass by at a railroad crossing. She finally looked at his face and he took his hand from hers and she watched his eyes as he took a single finger and touched the tip of her nose and softly followed the bridge of her nose and moved straight up across her high forehead where he to the crooked place her long dark hair parted naturally. After 40 plus years of trying to train her hair to part in the middle, after a few hours the river of hair parted in the crooked place. He took his finger and placed the hair at the crooked space the Creator had made each hair to flow from naturally. He leaned over close to her and as an attractive woman who had had not been blessed with long lasting real love of a worthy man, still, She had been truly loved a few Good men, Truly "lusted" and truly hunted by men who seek a woman for no reason other than the challenge. She's known what it is to be with weak and rich and strong and poor men and brilliant and powerful men. But He was different. Too different to explain tonight. She spent the next almost four years with Him, till He pasedd on. All the memories of Him are Beautiful and filled the with Truth and yes, All the time they shared reassures her the grief did pass but the Good Remains. She still remembers the beauty of his hands. It was if She could see in his hands all he'd sacrificed. Generations of American Indians he'd never known or met personally he risked his own life and liberty for Hope in the next seven generations. Perhaps It was All the untold sacrifices She saw in that one moments he glanced down at his hands. It was As if She saw rays of light from his beautiful brown hands and she knew his deeds from the past and present and future had been true attempts at what is Good and She knew Words were not needed. She felt the depth of his Goodness. But it was Him and not She who spoke the only words that First morning. It was Him who leaned forward and quietly whispered into her ,"You have a Good Spirit." byjojobrooksshifflett

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