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.
“What’s something you wish you knew how to do?” I wish I knew how to answer questions like that for a start. I never know what information they’re trying to solicit, and I don’t like to be wrong. Are they asking for lighthearted thoughts, or is this a “probe the depths of your soul” kind of query? Anxiety prefers concrete direction. One thought sprung instantly … Continue reading Flying: something I wish I knew how to do.
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?
From Famine to Feast 