Embers

As I write this opening reflection, I feeling the teeth of irritation. We all know this one, it’s a knaw, something unshakable- until the unexpected happens to dissipate it. This irritation I feel is a deep unhappiness. I’ve sat with this feeling on and off at times, and most pervasively in the last year- a writers block I suppose. How can I reflect on my parenting triumphantly? The truth is I cannot. As such, this is where I begin with deep sorrow and regret… I reflect.

I was at one time deeply happy and deeply satisfied. This naturally came with long bouts and stretches of terror, fear, and loneliness. The feeling of wanting to give my children everything. Naturally like most parents I continually ran myself in the ground to do so, and likely will again.

During this marathon, I was driven by an undeniable force of love. I found myself grieving my parents and the village I never had.

There is this myth, one that I certainly bought into: the decolonial reality of wild foods, fresh air, traditional living on the land, with elders speaking the language. It is absolutely a myth, tied to deep disappointments about the realities of our sick villages. Gee, MASI CHO IMPERIALISM! Even the fantasy is a trap, one we are all grieving!

Instead many new Indigenous parents are bowled over with intense visceral sensations, as well as unfathomable joy and love. The haunts are undoubtedly matched to the true love connection in the beginning. The see-saw of emotions cannot be managed without the labels of leftovers childhood neglect, abuse, and sexual violence coupled with the sheer desire to heal.

Breaking cycles… well these were the long desert and mountainous stretches of cycle breaking with tiny hands on my face, back, and sticky toes needing a bath! Many jubilant and crushing tears met with tiny toddler hugs.

I was grieving what was stolen from our people along with the land and children: a deep connection to each other- a secure attachment.

I did not know it at the time but I was standing amidst the ashes of our family lineage. I felt like the only one willing to look back honestly at everything and build forward for our kids- to give them everything I did not have, my parents did not have, and my grandparents- woof! You can see my expectations and ambitions were extremely high! I’ve definitely been told I am ambitious, but almost always in the most untrue ways- this is the only force driving me forward: These kids.

The story of our past, our present, and our future. A restoration that began with the desire to provide a secure attachment to each of my children in a society that would do everything it could to prevent the restoration of healthy Indigenous families. It’s beyond a story of residential school restoration- it is the undoing of genocide in family lines…