Support Aunty's Cremation at 104

In Loving Memory of Mrs. Alma Ashley

1920 – 2024

To know our beloved Auntie, our Gramma Hat, was to know a woman of unyielding strength, boundless generosity, and a spirit as vast as the land she called home. She was Diné (Navajo) in every sense—a woman of tradition, resilience, and deep wisdom. Born in 1920, she witnessed a world that most of us can only read about. She saw the rise of the Model T, graduated from high school before World War II, and lived through times of great change, yet her heart remained rooted in the old ways of her people.

Auntie was, above all, a helper. Her life embodied the Diné teaching of K’é—the sacred connection of kinship and community. She believed in helping others, not because she had to, but because it was who she was. Whether she was healing people at the hospital, delivering mail at the post office, feeding horses on the farm, or simply offering a kind word and a knowing smile, she made it her purpose to take care of those around her.

Though she never had children of her own, she was a mother to many. Nieces, nephews, neighbors, and even strangers, she took us all in, with open arms and a firm yet loving hand. She taught us the value of Hózhó—to walk in balance, with beauty, harmony, and strength.

A Life Rooted in Tradition

Auntie wasn’t just a woman of her time—she was a keeper of tradition, a storyteller, and a teacher of the old ways. She was fluent in Diné Bizaad (Navajo language) and ensured that our people’s words, stories, and teachings would not be lost.

She shared sacred knowledge of the Hózhóójí (blessing way) and taught the young ones through song, stories, and lessons in respect and resilience. Even in her later years, when her body grew tired, she never stopped teaching, never stopped guiding us with her wisdom and laughter.

The Feisty Side of Auntie

Auntie had a heart full of love—but let’s not forget—she had fire in her spirit, too! She was feisty, fierce, and stubborn in the best possible way.

She loved to argue, and if you ever found yourself on the other end of a debate with her—especially if you were a doctor or a nurse—you had better come prepared. She was never one to accept something at face value. She believed in standing her ground, speaking her mind, and ensuring that no one—not even modern medicine—thought they knew her better than she knew herself.

Even when she faced health challenges, including losing a leg and becoming wheelchair-bound, her spirit never wavered. If anything, it grew stronger. She wasn’t just surviving—she was thriving.

When she moved in with me, my husband, and our children, along with her sister Marie, she became the heartbeat of our home. Even in a wheelchair, she ruled the house, giving orders, teaching the little ones, and making sure we were all doing things the right way (or at least her way).

A Heart That Knew No Bounds

Auntie believed in giving—not just during the holidays but every single day of her life. She found pure joy in helping others, whether that meant a kind word, a warm meal, or giving to someone who needed it more than she did.

But when Christmas time came, that was when her heart truly shined the brightest. If ever there was a season that matched her spirit, it was Christmas. She loved to give, not just presents, but time, love, and a sense of belonging to anyone who needed it.

She lived by the Diné teaching of T’áá hwó’ ají t’éego, “It is up to you.” She believed that if something needed to be done, you do it, and if someone needed help, you step up.

A Woman of Style and Strength

Even as the years passed, Auntie never lost her sense of style. She wore black like it was her armor and adorned herself with her beautiful turquoise jewelry, which only made her look even more powerful and timeless. And, of course, there was the hat—her trademark, her signature, her crown. That’s why we called her Gramma Hat, and it was a name she wore with pride.

She may have lived a simple life on the reservation, but she carried herself like a queen, with dignity, pride, and an unmistakable air of "I know exactly who I am."

Saying Goodbye

Losing Auntie is a sorrow that words can barely touch. She was our foundation, our history, our heart. Her stories live in us, her lessons guide us, and her love carries us forward.

We find peace knowing that she is now whole again, walking freely, wrapped in her black shawl, turquoise gleaming in the sunlight, and probably arguing with angels about something important.

Helping Auntie on Her Final Journey

As we come together to honor her life and fulfill her final wishes, we are humbly asking for support through a GoFundMe campaign to ensure she is laid to rest in the way she deserves.

If Auntie ever touched your life—if she ever made you laugh, made you think, made you feel loved, or just made you shake your head at her stubbornness—we ask that you share in this final act of honoring her.

Every contribution, every shared memory, every kind word is a testament to the incredible life she lived.

From the bottom of my heart, and on behalf of all who loved her, Ahéhee’ (thank you).

With love and remembrance,

Michelle Fern & Family

Diné (Navajo) Words & Meanings in Auntie's Memory:

• Diné – The Navajo people

• K’é – The bond of kinship, love, and family

• Hózhó – The concept of balance, harmony, and beauty

• Hózhóójí – The Blessing Way, a sacred tradition

• Diné Bizaad – The Navajo language

• T’áá hwó’ ají t’éego – "It is up to you" (a teaching of self-reliance)

• Ahéhee’ – "Thank you"

Please note: We will be planning a Celebration of Life in June. Sorry for the confusion. Thank you!