Honoring Native American Heritage Month
November is Native American Heritage Month, and this year it brings back some very special memories of my childhood and my dear friend Dolly, who recently passed away.
Dolly was my best friend at Centennial junior high school in Minnesota. She was Native American on her mother's side, and she came from a family of five sisters who were absolutely gorgeous, strong, and downright badass!
Those girls had a reputation. Most of the boys were afraid of them because they had seen them fight. Nobody messed with the sisters! I thought they were the coolest girls around, and I wanted to be just like them.
In fact, I remember buying a box of black hair dye because I wanted dark hair like theirs. I thought if I could just get that beautiful dark hair, maybe I could look a little more like them. Looking back, it makes me laugh at the things we do as teenagers to fit in with the people we admire.
But what I loved most wasn't their looks or their tough reputations. It was the family itself. They welcomed me with open arms, and I felt safe, accepted, and loved whenever I was with them.
My teenage years at home were difficult. I lived with an alcoholic mother, and I often found myself spending more time at Dolly's house than my own. Her mother, Ida, knew what was going on and never made me feel like I was a burden. She told me I was welcome to stay as long as I wanted.
And I did!
The house was tiny, and with all those girls, we were practically piled on top of one another in one room. But somehow, there was always room for me.
Ida was a wonderful cook. She made the most delicious homemade meals, which were a whole lot better than the TV dinners I was used to microwaving at home. There was something special about sitting around their little house, sharing food, laughter, and everyday family life. It was the kind of warmth I needed more than I realized at the time.
Dolly definitely followed in her mother's footsteps when it came to cooking. Over the years, whenever we got together, she always seemed to have something delicious prepared. Sometimes it was Chinese or Thai food, and other times it was the kind of good old-fashioned comfort food her mother used to make. No matter what was on the menu, you could count on a wonderful meal, plenty of conversation, and lots of laughter. I guess that was one of the many things she inherited from Ida: the gift of making people feel welcome and loved through food.
Dolly and I shared so many fun times together, going to parties, concerts, laughing, and getting into the usual teenage adventures. We were young, carefree, and thought the world was ours to explore.
When I look back now, I realize how much that family meant to me. They gave me a place where I could just be myself. They didn't judge me or make me feel unwanted. They simply made room for me in their lives.
Dolly was part of those memories, but so was her entire family. I will always be grateful to Ida and those beautiful, strong sisters for making a young girl feel like she belonged.
Losing Dolly has brought back so many memories, and it reminds me how some friendships become part of who we are. Even though life took us in different directions over the years, those early memories never left me.
This November, as we recognize Native American Heritage Month, I find myself thinking about Dolly, her heritage, her family, and the love they shared with me.
Thank you, Dolly, for the friendship, the laughter, and the memories. And thank you to your beautiful family for giving me a second home when I needed one most.
You will always have a special place in my heart. ❤️
