Category Archives: The language of families

Dance in the Rain

My mother was many things. It’s no lie to say that she hated me. She hated how I threatened her, how she could not control me, she lived in fear that I would eclipse her. But she loved me too. … Continue reading

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Tea Towels and Wooden Spoons

I see her around. Well, not really because she is dead, her ashes put in to the ground by my own hands. Except that I see her. In a well dressed woman of a certain age. A tone of voice. … Continue reading

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69

I drove out to the garden and paid my admission, walking to what they call the Iris Dell, and what I irreverently refer to as ‘the place we tipped your mortal remains into’. Iris Dell sounds nicer.   There’s a … Continue reading

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Time Doesn’t Stand Still

I went in the back door. In truth, while I know there is a front door, I don’t think I’ve ever been through the front door. I go to the back door. I don’t ring the door bell and I … Continue reading

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Taller than I

I took my niece to the 100th anniversary of universal suffrage at the Alberta legislature, and as I stood behind her, with my hands on her shoulders, I joked that I needed to weigh her down. By this time next … Continue reading

Posted in Gabriel, Gardening, The language of families, the nieces and nephews, Tiny Points of Light | 3 Comments

Would She

The day my mother died, well, the night before really, I was talking to her nurse.┬áThe nurse commented that she was so glad I had arrived in time and asked if I had a nice flight. Now, on the face … Continue reading

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Across the Bridge

I am thinking – rather seriously – about going back to get my Master’s Degree. This is what happens when you only work 50 hours a week. You take up training for a half marathon and you have time for … Continue reading

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Sunlight Through the Window

The man my mother was seeing when she died asked me about my former step father. My mother never spoke of the former step father. The only time he came up was tangentially – when my mother refused to go … Continue reading

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It’s the Random Tuesday

I had a conversation with someone about building resilience in mentees a while ago, and he talked about counselling them to have back up plans and to recognize that this is all you can do. Go back to sleep at … Continue reading

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A Year and A Day

I saw my mother alive, awake, talking a year ago yesterday. That was the last time. When I saw her in December she was gone in mind, if not in body. I was around to watch the body go. I … Continue reading

Posted in Grief, The language of families | 2 Comments