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Grandmother was quite the character, a wonderful mess of interesting traits, if you will. She sold beaded key chains for a living, traveled to over one hundred reservations, and, you must admit, her wardrobe surely was something. Wearing a dress from “72, her late-husbands’ rodeo belt, basketball sneakers, and to top it all off, the must have bandana that changes color for every event. But what really made her truly interesting was that she was the most loving, forgiving, and tolerant person in her grandson, Juniors’, eyes. She was so tolerant, that she would speak to people who weren’t there just because she didn’t think she should be so quick to judge that there isn’t anyone invisible standing next to them. She just accepted everyone, even if they were a tad bit off. She loved everyone, and everyone ended up loving her in return. She had never even drunk a drop of alcohol in her life, which seemed to be rare for an Indian. When Junior asked why she chose not to drink, this was her answer, “Why would I want to be in the world if I couldn’t touch the world with all my senses?” (Alexi, 158)  She was old, her senses already dulling, but still there, at least. The world hadn’t worn her down yet, and it would probably never succeed in doing so, either. She wasn’t tired of the world; she didn’t want to escape anytime soon.

Alexi, Sherman. The Absolute True Diary of a Part-Time Inidan. New York: Hatchet Book Group, 2009. Print.