(September 25th entry from Honorary Indian Decolonized, available on Amazon.) I can remember the moment so clearly, even though I couldn’t have been more than six or seven years of age. We were on the Couchiching First Nation in northern Ontario. It’s where my Great Aunt and Uncle lived, and my Great Aunt was THE only person on the entire PLANET who could treat my Mom like a kid and get away with it, and I LOVED IT! I loved everything about coming here. I didn’t have grandparents and we never had company at home, but here, even as a young child, I recognized the undeniable feeling of being among family and I liked it. It was a beautiful summer afternoon, and the adults were chatting inside so I did what a typical six-year-old girl would do; I journeyed into the back yard to play among the dandelions growing healthy and strong on the lawn. This was the age of the residential schools as many were still fully operational including the one built right on the Couchiching reserve. As an adult, I could not even fathom what it would have been like to be a child in that school, to be able to look out a window and see your aunt, your Mother in the back yard, and not be able to go to them. As a child, all I knew was this building was evil. It scared my Mom and you had to be pretty terrible to invoke fear in my Mother. I played in the yard and suddenly I felt it. That unmistakable feeling that someone was watching me. I looked up at the school. There, in what I can only assume was a hallway window, was a little girl my age, looking out at me. I don’t know who she was. I don’t know her name or her story. All I know is the overwhelming feeling of guilt that I felt at that moment. Guilt over the simple fact that somewhere, in some big building, in some far-off city, someone had decided that I could be with my Mom and she couldn’t. We stood there for an eternity, then she was gone, and all I could do was run inside and hug my Mom.

(September 19th entry from 'Honorary Indian Decolonized' available on Amazon) As some of you may or may not know, yesterday I was diagnosed with high blood pressure. Okay, she diagnosed. I argued. She insisted. I debated. You get the gist? At the end of the day, the reading wasn’t different ... but my attitude was. I did my research. I found out that one in five Canadians have high blood pressure. (I’m sorry! That’s pathetic!) This explains why it’s no big deal to so many. I don’t have that cross to bear (and funny, yesterday I would have said, I don’t have that luxury). I watched high blood pressure and diabetes take my Mother from me and my eldest brother. So, as I said to my roomie, “I ain’t ready to say good- bye to my kids.” With the morning sun today, I am resolved to my new life and excited about the possibilities, and I know that I have learned some things ... • I know that high blood pressure doesn’t mean a death sentence for me, but it does mean a wakeup call. My health IS a gift, and as I have often stated, a gift not cherished is soon lost. • I know that my Mother was an amazing, warm, intelligent, loving person who sometimes made bad choices. I have no doubt that if she had taken her diagnosis of high blood pressure as seriously as she did her diabetes diagnosis, maybe I wouldn’t be writing this note. I will learn from her mistake, as I hope my children learn from mine. • I know that quitting smoking is minimal to the benefits of a great new body, good lungs, and great health, and I’m excited about the future. • I know now that my ‘work out’ isn’t something I should take time out to do, it should be a priority. I know now that ten years from now the report that is due won’t matter, but my health will. • I know now that every cigarette I touched, or every fatty calorie I inflicted on my body equals time my kids will have to do without me, and I’m just not that selfish. The cigarettes are gone and the calories I will save for what my body needs. A treat now and then, sure, that’s life, but more than that ... not what I or my body deserve.

(September 16th entry from Honorary Indian Decolonized, available on Amazon) YES, YES, YES! Thank you, Creator! Chi Miigwetch! Slowly, I see the change in them. I wasn’t sure it would ever happen, but it has. I see my girlfriend struggling, her heart broken, her mind confused, but even in her pain she now uses phrases like “Everything for a reason” as she looks to see the future benefits of this overwhelming pain, and I smile. And I watch another, as she is dealt what a few short weeks ago could easily have been a devastating blow. Is she crushed? No, instead she emails me to tell me that although her heart’s longing was not fulfilled, she has an amazing life, an amazing home, an amazing partner, and she is happy. She explains that the delay of a future happiness does not detract from the beauty of the present, and I smile. CHI-MIIGWETCH CREATOR! Slowly I see my loved ones grow in their personal power as they realize life is life, and there is no need to let it topple you. Like the mighty trees, I see them grow stronger and watch as the blows of their lives move them without uprooting them, and I smile. Both are amazingly strong women. I have seen this for ages, and now I am filled with such overwhelming happiness to know that they can finally see their true reflections as well.

Welcome to this amazing community dedicated to relationships and reconciliation! Please comment below and let us all know where you are from and why you joined me in this amazing space! I cannot wait to hear!

Close your eyes and picture your life Dream my child, dream. Not in silhouette but colour Dream my child, dream. Paint the landscape, melody too Dream my child, dream. Populate the scenario Dream my child, dream. Enjoy the life that you design Dream my child, dream. Live it, breathe it, hold on tight Dream my child, dream. It’s up to you so, paint it bright Dream my child, dream. Reach for the stars for it will be Dream my child, dream. Never forget that it will be Dream my child, dream. It’s up to you so paint it bright Dream my child, dream.