"Get the camera!" I yelled. As my young son came running towards me with the camera, I pointed up to the sky. Therethey were, four magnificent gleaming rainbows. The cloudssurrounding were a moody bluish black and the sun swiftly andgracefully beamed through them. The shimmering and glistening rainbows in that brief moment of sunshine pierced throughmy own darkness. In the last few months in my First Nationscommunity, we had experienced many deaths. Some of thesedeaths were relatives and friends. Years later, I would gaze atthe picture taken through hot tears, Nagweyaab geebawug orrainbow spirits I thought--these are the ancestors, those whohave passed reminding us to never give up. This is a story and inthis story an autoethnographical narrative emerges that is richwith contextual cultural interpretations of myself as a kidneydonor to my son. Through this autoethnographical narrative,there is the potential to further illuminate the lived experienceof chronic kidney disease (CKD) and kidney transplantation. Inthis paper, the terms First Nations and Indigenous are utilizedinterchangeably.