Tiwahe

There are many ceremonies of our Lakota people that are still practiced in this day and age and preserved through the years. There are also many of these ceremonies that are exploited. I guess I am not really here to talk about that this week. I just wanted to make that point, to start with.
Other than ceremonies we have many traditions that we practice and have been throughout the years.
One of these is the memorial dinner which is held one year after a loved one has passed. Sometimes, or most of the times the "Wiping Of The Tears" is performed at this memorial and it is time for the mourning to end.
If anyone reading is not familiar, the Memorial Dinner is a celebration of sorts of that loved one's life. Songs are sung, words are said, a feast follows with a giveaway of many wonderful things, including starquilts and such. Many families save up all year for this one last celebration of that person's life.
Which is really what I want to talk about.
Family.
Tiwahe.
A 6 letter word either way.
And a very strong word.
I often joke that "You choose your friends not your family." Or that my family puts the "dis" in dysfunction, or the "funk" in dysfunction. Or there is an old joke that we are the "Bright Family" when someone does something that is not so bright. It's all good and fun. I like to joke and laugh around, as does my family.
But for real, FAMILY is a very powerful part of our lives. I know many times when I lived off the reservation and I felt something in my life was missing, it was family. Which resulted in monstrous phone bills.
Many times when I felt there was nowhere else to turn, there they were.
Or sometimes when I am home alone and everything is peaceful, someone shows up to visit and eat. It's all good. Tiole is the way to be.
Sometimes when I am sad from watching some dumb, sad chick flick, my family laughs at me and makes me feel dumb for crying to Toy Story, uh I mean, uh...Legends of The Fall.
Sometimes when I....I mean my kids lock my keys in the car, my part of the family that knows how to open car doors without keys, will help me out.
Or sometimes, when I am short on change in the grocery store, someone in my family will put something back from my cart and tell me I really don't need those Swiss Cake Rolls.
Then there's the time when a cat attacked me from a nearby bush and made me scream and run, (last year) who else was there to laugh at me but my family.
Aw...and when I got married, who else but my brothers took a pool on how long it would last. By the way, my brother Steve wanted me to mention that there really isn't a pool, but if there was and anyone was interested, it would be 25 dollars in a money order along with a self addressed stamped envelope. Such jokers, they are!
And my family is so great that if I fall, they race to run over and put their arms widely spread out in front of me and scream "SAFE!" Of course I was safe, I just fell on ice....at night....in the middle of a deep freeze.
OR the time my little sister was so thankful on Earth day when I told her how simple can she be to not know how to plant a baby pine tree that she hit me in the face with it.
Or my other little sister who was so concerned when she painted the wall with toothpaste that she cleaned it up all by herself....with my suede jacket!
The best was when my 4 year old little sister and I was stuck on a bumper boat because I didn't know how to steer it. So my family rallied around us and soaked us until the guy at the park jumped in and rescued us from drowning.
My family is awesome. Our ties bind us. I treasure every minute I get to laugh, cry, hug, be around, and fall down around them.
Treasure every minute you get with your family...so you are not one day sitting at a memorial dinner and regretting the time you didn't spend with them.
Honor your family, even if they put the "funk" in dysfunction.
Love your family because they love you. (That doesn't mean snag your cousin! We are Lakota, not hillbilly! HEEY!)
Embrace your family, because if nobody else is there, they will be.
I didn't choose my family, but I am damn thankful for all of them.

Pilamayan

I would like to thank everyone who reads me from the column. Just so you know the column is not my main lifesource but it helps. I enjoy the emails and I enjoy the seeing you all sign the buddy map at the bottom of the page. When I originally started my blog on Yahoo 360 it was to vent. Then eventually I took the time to send in my writing to a 2 papers and it was accepted by both. I now only write for the one paper, which is more for my people.
I do have issues and causes I DO care to write about and all this can be seen if you go back far enough in this blog. At the moment I am just keeping it real and writing about life.
I hope to soon someday write about those issues and causes without sounding like I am crying around.
So anyway Pilamayan (thank you) to everyone that stops in and signs the map at th bottom and takes the time to email me. You are all wonderful and I hope to get to know you all better.
Ake
(again)
Dana

badass

I once wrote about my friend Nate and how he described a moment as being "badass." Sometimes there are times like that in life where everything is just badass. Maybe it's only seconds or minutes long but it's there, right then and now.
It happened to me yesterday.
I was cooking out for my brother, uncle, Bruce, and his friend for Father's day. The steaks were on the grill. You could smell them.
Bruce and Terry were singing one of their songs that my brother requested. A thunderstorm had just passed and some of the clouds were clearing away. It smelled like rain and it was still slightly and steadily raining. The sun was setting up the hill with beautiful coloring and the sunshine was reflecting every raindrop so it sparkled. My kids and my brothers kids were lighting fireworks and laughing in the back yard. I looked up the hill at the rain because it was so beautiful and a little girl with black hair to her waist was running up the hill laughing as a dog chased her.
It lasted a whole 30-40 seconds tops.
I may live in the poorest county in the country and this neighborhood may be ghetto as all hell.
But those few soconds right then and there were just beautiful and "badass."

Defeated

When I first started writing I would write with so much passion?

I feel anymore like it's faded. Has it?

I don't know. I guess writing for the newspaper sometimes people tell me I am real. You're for real. They say.
Well of course I can only be me, for reals. But sometimes I wonder where all my passion went. I can't really blame getting married because I am still a radical bitch. I just can't find anything to get fired up about.
Then I started thinking...does that mean I am defeated?
Am I just an indian girl, sitting in her house sipping a beer and plunking away on the keyboard during a thunderstorm? Do I really have anything to say?
Am I defeated as a Lakota because I am drinking a beer?
Am i defeated as a Lakota woman because I do have a man that I love?
Am I defeated as a Lakota woman because I have nothing to be passionate about?
Am I defeated, like they say my people were/are because i live on a reservation. They put us in these boundaries and say we are our own nation when our people roamed from the panhandle of Nebraska to the mountains in Montanta. That was our way of life, our territory.
Now we are our own nation, which is bullshit. The only good thing about this so called soveriegnity is that I can drive my car with expired tags and don't have to cut my grass when a man with a fake cop suit and clipboard comes by to tell me that neighbors are complaining.
I lived outside this reservation.
I came home and it pisses me off how we were so tricked into this. Forced or whatever. Either way, we can never roam freely like we used to. We can never enjoy the land. Nothing pisses me off more than to see a beautiful piece of land and then see a fence with a No Trespassing sign.
Yeah I know, get over it....I know, but you have no idea how much it hurts.
So am I defeated?
I don't think so.
I came home for a reason.
When I know what it is, I will let you know.
Until then I plunk away on this keyboard.

There is something i am having a hard time dealing with.

There are probably no words of advice to give but I would like to express it my thoughts about it anyway. For those of you who know me from Yahoo 360, you know my family had a tragedy back in November when my step-dad passed away.

It was really hard for me to deal with because I never had to deal with anything like that. Not that closely anyway. But i struggled and wondered if it was harder for me to deal with his death or whether it was harder for me to deal with the fact that my little brothers and sister lost their father who was a great father to them. He lived for his children and he raised my brother and I, since I was 10 years old. He always, always included me in the count of his kids. He never said I have this many kids and 2 step children, he always considered us his.

The only reason I still say step-dad is because my father is still alive. I love my father and nothing ever changed that.

But I still have my father.
My younger brothers and sister do not. And my youngest sister is age 12, she was 11 when he passed away. It was all of a sudden and a massive heart attack.

This is what bothers me.
My little sister, his baby girl, once told my mom. "He is still on my messenger, but I can't delete it because maybe wherever he is he will find a computer or maybe he will be able to type on it like that guy on that movie Ghost. Then II can still talk to him."
MY mom said nothing, she walked to her room and cried.

When she told me that, I cried.
Then the other day I was cleaning out my messenger box and at the bottom I have people who use MSN messenger, which he used. And at the bottom I seen his smiley face icon on messenger.

So I was like....now what do I do?

I can't delete him.
I just can't.

for reals

I used to say that when I was a kid, "For reals." especially when someone didn't believe me. "For reals." I would say and soon it got to be a habit, after almost every line. For reals.
I read a blog today that made me think about being for real and bloggin. Some people use their blogs for poetry, or fiction, or like JohnB and his daily travels on the city bus, with some poetry mixed in.
We can all use our blogs anyway we want. They are, after all our blogs. Yet some people use them for them the wrong way.
Let me explain. I kow a guy who uses them to make himself feel better about who he is. he will blog about his existence as a soldier for 10 years serving in many wars and as a peacekeeper. Yet, when I saw hiw actual army paperwork he only served two years.

He constantly checks and rechecks his blog for comments, which is fine, we all do that at some point in the day. Then if no one comments he gets mad and pissed off. Saying how no one likes him.
That is what brings me to blogging for you. Comments are nice but when you are not yourself people will find out and realize what a fake you are. And for reals, if you are going to be fake be an interesting and fun to read fake. Don't blog about model building or checking your mail.
Peace out, for reals!

I was 2 when my brother Travis was born. i don't remember much except he had a huge bald head and big giant eyes. I would kiss him and call him bubber when everyone was looking and when no one was looking I would tip him over. I taught him a trick, go ahead baby put the whole bowl of cereal over your head. I thought he was going to get in trouble but it made everyone love him more. We have the same mom and pops and are closer than siblings can get. We went through alot together, even if it meant kicking the crap out of each other and chasing each other around with weapons i would rather not name. The day he was run over by a drunk driver still seems surreal. I stayed many hours in the hospital pushing him around with his big leg with all the pins sticking out of it. It had to suck for him to have us leave at the end of the day. The older we get the more kids we have but nothing has changed, we are still the same goofy ass brother and sister. We can still just about read each others minds.

Trav will always be in my life as a hero, brother and friend. We went through some trying times together and we survived. Love you bro.