It’s Father’s Day 2018. And I thought it would be apt to share a story with you about my father. It’s about breaking bread together. It’s about good intentions. It’s about building bonds. It’s, ultimately, about love.
My father wasn’t perfect. I mean, who is? But he lived an interesting life.
Before I was born, he and my mom lived on the Crow reservation. Every year, I take it, they have a reenactment of Custer’s Last Stand. My dad used to play Custer. He was often invited to the sweat lodge with the Native men–a huge honor!
Later in his life, my daughter was born. My dad loved her like all get out. Here’s how I know:
One time, when we went to visit my dad, who now resided in Texas, my dad thought he might like to cook us a special dinner.
Guess what that man made? He made fresh corn from the garden and buffalo burgers. It was an entirely Native meal! He cooked and as I watched him, I could tell he was adding an extra spice to the meal: love.
It doesn’t matter that my daughter’s tribe didn’t hunt buffalo prior to colonization. It was the thought. It was the good, warm intention. It was him showing my daughter that she was loved and accepted and intentionally trying to cook a Native meal for us.
Like I said, my dad wasn’t perfect. But he knew what he was doing with that meal. Today, it stands out as one of my fondest memories of him.
Rest in peace, Dad.