For many, many years, there has rarely been a day that hasn’t begun with a cup of tea and the obituaries. I read them each day even before I read the daily headlines. Sometimes, I notice trends. For example, around this time of year – the last couple of weeks leading up to Christmas –… Continue reading i would have loved her
Tag: dying
time goes by
This picture was taken the day my mom turned 75. That was seven and a half years ago now. Four years ago this afternoon, we sat together - my mom and dad and sister and I - in a puke-coloured room in the cancer centre as the doctor delivered the news that her cancer had… Continue reading time goes by
thanksgiving
It’s overcast at the cottage this morning. It was a spur of the moment decision to come up here late yesterday. One minute we were sitting on the bed folding laundry talking about this year’s brilliant fall colours. Twenty minutes later we were on the road. The last thing I threw in my bag on… Continue reading thanksgiving
the world still to come
TRIGGER WARNING: Overdose, Death A friend of my son’s passed away unexpectedly on the weekend from a drug overdose. The cause of his accidental death is not being said in hushed tones, the way it once would have been. It was shared openly today in his obituary. He was 22. He’d visited our house a… Continue reading the world still to come
i’m still here
She kneels down next to me and presses her palm to the side of my face. The softness of her. Her hands always so warm. She leans close, pressing her forehead to my cheek. And we stay that way for a minute or two. I’m still here, she says. All you have to do is… Continue reading i’m still here
the blue house
A poem I haven’t thought of in some time has been hanging around me the past few days. Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe it’s a message. It turned up for me again this week as I was doing some research for a book idea. The poem is called The Blue House (by Tomas Transtromer). In… Continue reading the blue house
lessons from a gravedigger
I stood at the upstairs bedroom window for a few minutes this morning, watching as a man chipped away at the cold, hard ground, squaring up the sides of a new grave in the cemetery that butts up against our backyard fence. People sometimes tell me they think it would be weird to live in… Continue reading lessons from a gravedigger
an angel we could see
A little over a year ago, my cousin Nancy gave me this aloe plant from her collection. I needed a good hair-do for this plant holder person and, by some miracle, it has stayed alive. Nancy & Benny came for supper that night with my dad. It was the spring of 2019, just months after… Continue reading an angel we could see
MeaningMaker 