Archive For February 28, 2017
“Mom, I need to tell you something…” This statement can often lead to admission of misdeeds: things broken, last of some favourite treat consumed, confession of petty revenge… those kind of things. When my son said this leading statement the other night, that wasn’t where he was going. …”I wanted to tell you that I…
My inheritance stares at me across the wooden barrier that I have erected. My mom’s dog came to live with us not so long ago, and she has become my fuzzy shadow. When I sit in bed, she is at my feet. When I am in my sewing room, she is at my feet. When…
Get up and greet the dogs, make breakfast for the family, shovel, black squirrels playing in a tree, a crow calls out, walk a dog (delegated the rest to the kids, yeah me), tromping through unadulterated snow, the sky rains frozen tears. Everything continues. Seems the same, not the same. It is the day after…
My mom is dying. There are no expections of getting better or rallying. We sit and listen as she struggles to breathe. Watching. Visitors come. Seeing them saying goodbye, coming to terms with the end of her life, their relationship to her (sister, friend, romance past and present) is hard. My relationship to them is…