From February 2019. “I’m not afraid to die,” she said. “You’re not? That’s good to know. It actually makes me feel so much better to know that.” “No, I’m not. I know that everyone has to die sometime,” she said,… Continue reading

From January 2019. A thought stabs up, ripping through me. It’s really going to happen.  I’ve never pretended that my mother wasn’t going to die from this. From cancer. From creation gone wild. But it’s closer now than I ever… Continue reading

From January 2019. My mother has the most beautiful handwriting. A beautiful signature. All my life it has been one of her hallmarks. It is not lost on me that the last thing she will ever sign — a Do… Continue reading

From December 2018. The ever-churning swirl that is my brain won’t let me sleep tonight. Even the dog is pissed off with all my tossing and turning. God, I love him. I suppose this happens to people all the time,… Continue reading

Another day at the cancer hospital getting a reality check. And signing up for Round 5. Mom: Look at all the people in here today again. There are just so many people with cancer. Old people. Young people. Cancer sure… Continue reading

Years ago, I read a memoir called “Lit” by Mary Karr. As you can imagine, it’s about getting drunk. And sober. It’s about becoming a mother by letting go of a mother. And learning to write by learning how to… Continue reading

From November 2018. I’ve loved words and I’ve hated them. Today was a less than stellar day for words. Today, words stuck in my ears. They stuck hard and achy against the sides of my throat. And they broke my… Continue reading

On more than one occasion this year, as I was locked inside that decadent little red velvet theatre – surrounded by a glorious Freaker’s Ball of fellow theatregoers being unapologetically themselves – I’ve wondered if what we were doing there… Continue reading

I was trying to deconstruct a dream I had about my mother a couple of weeks ago — I’m nerdy like that — and it turned into this teary thing that I can’t shake. Don’t be alarmed. She is still… Continue reading

The Running Kind, by Merle Haggard. It reached out of the ether yesterday morning and wrapped itself around my heart as I was scrolling through my favourite stations on Sirius, on the way to work. It stopped me cold. That,… Continue reading