Hi all, my name is Tessa Morgan. Well, according to my birth certificate I am Tessa Wounded Eye.

My mom put my sister and I in elementary school (which was a predominantly white school) with the last name Morgan-it was her way to protect us from being made fun of because kids can be mean and despite the fact, they still were but that was that. I was now Tessa Morgan. When it came time to graduate high school my sister and I had to decide whether or not to stay Wounded Eye or keep Morgan and add on my step dad’s last name which is Redepenning like my mom had done. At that point we had no traditional values, no contact with any family from that side so we chose to change it. My mom and Oliver divorced when my sister and I were young and my mom later remarried so we never really knew him as our dad but always knew he existed of course. When I was little I would always look at anyone who had similar features and wish it was him and that we would just somehow randomly run into him and I would finally meet him and he would finally want me. Growing up without knowing who my real dad was or why he left did both my sister and I of emotional damage. The younger version of me held so much pain and resentment and anger towards him that any time he would reach out on facebook I wouldn’t know how to respond so I usually didn’t. My father wound runs deep and I know it does with my sister too.

After going through the loss of my son I have a newfound view on death and life. And my sobriety. Five years have passed since then and I’ve been healing and growing and recovering. Relationships have been made with family from that side throughout the years and I’ve grown a better knowledge of my culture and am teaching my own boys to be proud to be Cheyenne. I have grown to love and appreciate my heritage more as an adult and hope to switch my name back legally soon. I’ve taught myself medicine through beadwork and call my business Wounded Eye. In a way that’s been so healing for me. I’m almost three years sober from alcohol, something I struggled with for almost half of my life. Alcohol was my dad’s crutch too and has now lead to his death.

I think I understand why everything happened the way it did-that he was fighting his own battles in this life and still knew he always cared, so I finally came to a place in my heart to forgive him. Not for him, but for myself.

I always knew he loved us, I just wasn’t ready to accept it for many reasons. Now that I’m 32, I finally felt ready to build a relationship with him and get all the answers to my questions. I was looking forward to getting some closure and to learn more about my culture and about who he is and finally build a relationship with him. And now I’ll never get that. And he will never know that.

Last month I reached out and sent him a message and I never got a reply. He never saw it. I chalked it up to him being an old man and not checking facebook often but to my dismay I received a message from an auntie late October saying that he was in the icu with pneumonia, cirrhosis of the liver and was septic.. I would check in and it sounded like there was some hope he would get better so I attempted to put it out of mind and thought I would have the chance to talk to him with he woke up and got better. I knew it wouldn’t be an easy recovery but I was in that mindset that it was going to happen. Well, it didn’t. The doctors have said he has a few days left on the respirator and that there was nothing left they could do..

I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I will never get to see him talk to me, study his mannerisms, I will never hear his laugh. I will never feel that hug I was so ready to recieve. And he will never get to look at my sister and I face to face and see how much we’ve grown and the women we’ve become. He will never meet our beautiful children. That kills me and that little girl inside of me just wants to scream.. It’s just not fair. But neither is life I guess.

Today, I was prepared to get a call from my auntie and the plan was for her to put the phone up to his ear so I can say what I needed to say. Hoping that subconsciously he would hear me. I wasn’t prepared at all. I had no idea how I was going to say it I was just going to let it out. She calls and tells me that there is someone he was seeing who is willing to help with a flight for us to go be with him and attend his funeral. Apparently they had been saving up to come visit my sister and I this summer.. I was also planning a trip to go meet him and family this summer. The timing man..

In our culture, there is a four day ceremony following a death. A round trip flight from Minneapolis to Billings, Montana are around 1,115 right now for the both of us to see him and attend. She can afford to help with a flight there which is $800 so I’m looking to raise the remaining $415 and then of course there’s car rental and lodging costs. I am not in the most secure place when it comes to finances right now and am so behind on bills so this couldn’t have come at a worse time. But we need to go. I want to be with him and I would regret it forever if I didn’t at least try. So, I’m making this in hopes I can call out to my community for help. Anything is so appreciated from the bottom of my heart. I hate asking for help but I can’t do this alone. Even if you can only help by sharing I would be forever so grateful..