Many years ago, I moved us to University to begin a new life. We lived on the University side of the city that held most of the university students and families. As with most cities, there were low rental places for students and we found an area where there were duplexes in an arranged area the faced each other with nice park-like areas between buildings.
Right away, my youngest son, Jordon, met a new friend across the way. He was as blond as ‘Joey’ was dark. Jordon wanted his curly hair kept short. Joey had a long braid down his back. The two were inseparable at school as well as every day after we got home. Soon Jordon came home with big news. Joey was going to have a new baby in their house. What he did not know is that it was going to be right away. A few days later, baby boy was born and Jordon rushed over as soon as they got home. He came home all breathless.
“Mom, I know why Joey’s gots dark skin!” I smiled and asked, “Why?” “Because his mom feeds it chocolate milk from her boobies!”
The boys were inseparable for three years. They spent every day after school out and about in the coulees and in the parks. Over the time, I got to know Joey’s family and his oldest sister, and baby brother Dylan. I got to know his mother better and better. She was busy making regalia for herself. She was going to Sundance for her own healing, to make a promise to Creator, to pray for her family.
When I graduated, in the Spring two years later, she was still a single parent mom, going to University, going to ceremonies, walking The Good Red Road. Before I left for my job, way up North, she gave me the gift of her Sun Dance belt; a great honor to me. I never saw her again, but heard of Candice who had become friends with my daughters over the years. I heard when Joey died in a car accident and told the kids. I heard his mother was struggling. Drugs and alcohol are terrible things in our communities and with the people.
Forty years later I get a private message on Facebook from Joey’s sister who I have not seen since she was a young child. She wanted to tell me how I impacted her life way back then. We talked about many things, and in the conversation, she told that her mother had been overtaken by alcohol and died of her alcoholism. She said she only remembered her mother as an alcoholic and had how it meant that she ended up in the system.
I told her I was so sorry to hear that and that I only remembered her mother as following the Ceremonial Road, “in fact,” I said, “she gifted me her Sun Dance belt.” She cried when she heard that. She had no good memories of her mo9ther after it was all said and done and it meant so much to hear me speak of her mother so. I told her I would send her her mother’s Sun Dance Belt. She was overwhelmed.
I packed up the belt the next day and sent it in the mail to her, post haste. She sent me a message and a photo when she opened it. She spoke how dear it was to her. I knew it would be.
We never know when we will be called on to say the right thing at the right time for someone. I have lived a life full of many such incidents and people and I have been able to gift back. The belt symbolizes all that was good for her mother and her before life overwhelmed them. I could not know, then, when it was given to me, that one day I would have the honor of gifting it back to her wounded daughter. She said the healing was taking place. As it should be, my friend, that I could help you bless your daughter one more time.
©Carol Desjarlais 9.19.20
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