Peter Martin Whitehead / Wabistigwanis

achakos mikisew nâpew (Star Eagle Man)

ᐊᒑᐦᑯᐢᒥᑭᓯᐤᓇᐯᐤ

January 22, 1961 – June 20, 2026

            wipîkiskâtisin êkwa kikîsinâtêyihtamâtin ay-itêw mâyipayiwin niyânân ohtâwîmâw[1], Peter Whitehead. Peter was a dedicated and providing husband, father, grandfather, son, brother, uncle, nephew, and cousin to many beloved family members across Alberta and Manitoba. On June 20th, 2026, he passed away peacefully with his wife, Tina, at his side in their Selkirk home. He was, as he would say, never good at putting down his feelings in writing, but, said “here’s a song that puts it all together, I love you” which was Chris Stapleton’s “Tennessee Whiskey”. On their anniversary, five years ago, Peter wrote, “Well, baby, I’ve loved you since the first day I’ve met you. You’re my heart.”

            Peter will be lovingly remembered, today and always, by his wife, Tina Whitehead; sons: Joshua Whitehead, Cole Cameron, and Quinn Budge; daughters: Krista Whitehead and Tyra Cameron; grandchildren: Akira Budge and Alexander Budge; sisters: Cecelia Gudmundson, Margaret Whitehead, and Lorraine Whitehead; brother: Harvey Whitehead; and mother: Beverly Cameron. And an incredible extended family, too large to fully name here.

            Peter was predeceased by his mother, Rosa Whitehead of Mikisew Cree First Nation; father, Roderick Simpson of Mikisew Cree First Nation; grandmothers: Annie Boucher (Big Annie) and Frances Sutherland; grandfather: Napoleon Whitehead; sisters: Terri Cameron and Doris Whitehead; brothers: Dustin Gudmundson, Eddie Cameron, Norman Whitehead, Johnny Whitehead, and Lloyd Whitehead.

            Peter was born in Edmonton, Alberta, on January 22nd, 1961. A survivor of the Sixties Scoop in Canada, he lived throughout his childhood and teenage years in and out of foster and adoption care, having resided across Canada. It wasn’t until he met my mother in 1986 in Selkirk, MB, that he began to, as he would say, “finally feel at home with a family.” Peter worked tirelessly throughout his twenties and thirties searching for his mother, his birth family, the Whiteheads, and his birth home, Mikisew Cree First Nation.

            Peter worked tirelessly and with fortitude as a long-haul truck driver for much of his life to provide for his family. He knew the roads across Turtle Island like the back of his hands. He could be stubborn and fiercely protective of his family, but, at his core, he was a sensitive, deeply loving, and compassionate person who would talk an ear off of anyone who wanted to share stories with him. He loved spending time with his family, his time off from the road being the most cherished bits of his week, and would always say, when his whole family was home, “Tina, the house is full and everything feels right again. I’ll sleep well tonight.” He was incredibly proud of his children and grandchildren and talked endlessly about them to anyone who wanted to listen. During his downtime, you would find him watching reruns of House, The Good Doctor, MASH, or the entire Twilight series in one sitting whenever it was playing on APTN with Tina (including fake yawning to wipe away his tears whenever something on his shows made him tear up). He loved anything and everything Western, whether it was reading Louis L’Amour’s pulp novels or Clint Eastwood’s gunslinging films. He loved sitting in his garage or on his back patio listening to country and rock music with a cigar and Budweiser.

            We will miss you, Peter, dad, papa, always. We saw you off, in our sacred fire, shared stories about your joy and light, feasted with you, cried for you, laughed about you, had ceremony for you, and closed the door as gently as we could. As we know, in Cree and Anishinaabe cultures, we do not say goodbye—we have no words for finality. Instead, we say, kihtwâm, baamaapi, “we’ll see you again, we’ll see you soon,” and kiyâm, “let it be, as it is”. So, Peter, our loving husband, father, dad, grandfather, we will see you again, whenever that will be. Until then, keep the fires lit, keep watch over us, and we’ll do the same for you. Love you forever, love you always.

[1] We are sad and regretful to announce the passing of our father, Peter Whitehead.