I began this piece on a quiet day watching my Grandpa carefully remove kernels of dry corn from the cob by rubbing them together - a process called Nadaah Jíí Shósh in Navajo. This is done so the corn can be prepared for grinding. These days, my Cheii has a hard time remembering the simplest of tasks because he suffers from dementia. That day in May he knew exactly what to do once the pan of corn was in front of him. Watching him, I began to appreciate the history that was before me: a reminder that I am a product of this act, and that this act sustained me before my very existence. As I finished this piece this morning I reflected on blessings. I am thankful to live on a land my culture is tied to. I am thankful we live on a land that can provide for our existence. I am thankful for the history of my ancestors, for the preservation of knowledge, and for our Elders and what they teach the youth. I am thankful for the sharing of food as an act of love and sustainter of life.