Marking Your Passing Doola

Dear Doola,

It’s been an odd year. I don’t even know what to share with you. I miss you. I wish you had been here with me. Dad died. It was more difficult than I could have ever imagined. With the anniversary of your passing within a close time, my emotions are muddled. I find myself just wanting to reach out to you.

Dad’s passing doesn’t rehash my grief for you but it’s a different type of grief I’ve never felt. As with all grief, I’m finding a new norm. I feel a bit alone but I’ve been alone without you in this with dad anyway. In you, with dad, I had an allay. Now, the fight is just with my emotions.

In this, I have found a part of my identity again. I no longer use Marie. I am using Ahiddibah as my name or Bah. I realized we assimilated to a white culture to make it easy on them so we could fit in. So we wouldn’t be made fun of. So we wouldn’t have to explain. But that time is over. We are no longer token Indians. I am a strong Dine’ woman who lives up to my name. I want to be that. I want my identity back.

Dad never called me Marie. Always Bah. Always Bah. In the obit, they called me Marie, and it made me a bit salty. They did reach out to me and I ignored them, so it was my fault, but if they new me, they would have known.

School is coming to an end and it has been a wacky year. You would have appreciated the stories this year. I wish you could have seen the art show this week. I think you would have enjoyed it and would have been proud.

I just wish you had been with me this year.

I fixed your jammies and am wearing them. They were your favorite bottoms and I also have your tshirt. I stole them one night I stayed over. But I haven’t been able to wear them for years. I mended and altered them and now I feel like I’m wearing a hug from you.

I hope you are watching me and laughing that laugh when I laugh. Sometimes I feel an echo and swear it’s you. Come visit me in my dreams. I’d love to see you.

I love you. Be with me today. Be happy today. Let me be happy today. I will hold you in my heart and allow my grief to be love and flow through me.