I don’t think I have a hero. [i] Except perhaps for Terry Fox, held up as a hero by every Canadian. The Marathon of Hope was like nothing the world had seen, and I think that was perhaps true of Terry as well. He died on June 28, 1981. I was just twelve as he ran his way across Canada. He’d been, up until his … Continue reading Finding a hero: someone who inspires.
it would make a scene, I suspect, if I caused among those who are surrounding me the kind of pain I carry (not to brag, she said with false humility, but there’s a fair bit trapped inside) (and honestly, they own much of it). the blood spatter, however, would make extra work for our waitress, and service workers are overworked, underpaid, borderline-slave labour. … Continue reading Not what I want.
I was walking to the corner store to buy candy with my meagre allowance one bright summer morning, skipping cracks because who wants a mother with a broken back, and when I looked up, I was fifty-two. There’s a lifetime in the gap, but I forget all too often the history in my history, focusing only on the ugly bits, which, excluding the eating disorder … Continue reading Criticism or celebration?
I abandoned Facebook recently and every day, my mood celebrates that decision. Still, the occasionally meaningful graphic is nice. I found one on Pinterest. I have a fondness for things that look nostalgic. It’s good advice – stand tall and find the light – but it should come with a corollary. Something in an “evil thoughts for those who bear shadows,” perhaps? It would be … Continue reading Be like a sunflower.
From Famine to Feast 