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Pianos crashing, shoes dropping: The first anniversary of my mother's death

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Saturday will mark the first anniversary of my mother’s death; it feels rather like waiting for that other shoe to drop — expecting it, knowing it must come in the natural order of things, and wondering what it will feel like when it arrives. No way around it; it will simply be. A day — another day, an otherwise ordinary day on which to live in Mum’s absence while knowing her love for me is ever-present in my heart. My mother was not one for marking private anniversaries publicly, though she enjoyed being celebrated on her birthday. She didn’t believe in a ‘special’ day for mothers in May: “Love me every day or don’t bother me on Mother’s Day,” was, essentially, her attitude, though she never said those exact words. I would call her anyway, to needle her a bit about the day and to ensure she could chime in with others at dinner about phone calls from offspring. I don’t need a special day to remember my mother. I think of her all the time, speak often of her with my partner, Val; with ...

Television was our love language -- especially season six of Downton Abbey

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April is many things, including ‘ the cruelest month ’. In my neck of the woods, it is the month of yoyo weather that sees a hall closet bursting full with every type of jacket needed for what the up-and-down-and-back-again weather might bring: On Saturday, we reached 18 degrees Celsius, while Monday morning brought light snowfall. Sheesh. But, in my heart, April is the month of mothers, for mine died last year on the 26th of this month, while Val’s mother died on the 7th in 1999. We speak often of these fine women, as one should of those we have loved in a deep and formative way. And for me, I must confess, this includes talking about television. My mother and I used television as a love language between us.  We spent many a happy hour watching our favourite movies and shows together. This was no mere passive past-time; no, no. We wouldn’t just sit and watch, waiting for something to happen. Goodness, no. We provided our own commentary, speculations and assessments of the action a...

My mother was right: We two-legged animals can learn a lot from loving a four-legged one

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  Holly, the cat: in kitten hood; hiding in the ferns; relaxing in her dotage One year ago on this date, I arrived for the last time at my mother’s in Edmonton. She died three weeks later at the age of 95-and-a-half, after a long and good life. I’ll write more about my mother’s death another time; today, I am writing to celebrate a different long and good life — this one belongs to Holly, our feline companion who turns the equivalent of 84-human-years old today. I hesitate to call myself her ‘owner’; anyone who has ever had any kind of relationship with a cat knows full well that we don’t own them. We share our house and our heart with them and, if we are lucky, they return our love and affection with something akin to acceptance. Having grown up with cats as the family pet, I tried to branch out once I had my own place. In the early 1980s, I tried to share my life and home with a dog, but it was not a happy experience — for either of us. I did not understand how to relate to a dog...

Seduction by cell phone: What have we done?

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NOTE:   I wrote this piece for my current writing group, in response to two prompts. First, a quote from Joanna Trollope’s 2017 novel  City of Friends : "…that tragedy was not going to spill over into making an equal tragedy of both their lives, and their marriage. 'I don’t mind the idea of sacrifice,' he said, 'I don’t even mind the fact of sacrifice. But it’s got to be worth it.'" Second, an oil painting by Swedish artist Anna Maria Lindholm Rogberg, titled 'Group Chat', depicting four girls at the beach: feet in the water, cellphones in hand, heads bowed to their screens. Together, yet apart. (Find her on Instagram  here .)   *** I didn’t get a cell phone until the summer of 2013. By then I had been teaching college students for about seven years, over which I had witnessed the steady rise of the cell phone in the classroom. What had once been an unusual and exceptional tool for only some students had become an extension of just about every student’...

Living in the OVERFLOW means saying YES! -- if four needs are met

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Tulips: the promise that spring really will come; one day... The other day, I was described by a friend as “a woman of a certain age with nothing to prove who wants to get sh*t done”. I like this description, because it’s true: Last month, I reached official senior citizenship — no denying the ‘of a certain age’ stage. And it’s accurate: There is so much I want to be doing and time is roaring down the road ahead of me, it can be hard to keep up never mind stay on top of things. For both these reasons, I say YES! to a variety of things these days, but each commitment must meet four criteria: CONNECTION : I want to spend my time with people who share my values and are engaged in meaningful work of some kind in some way to make our corner of the world a better place for all COMMUNITY : I treasure my solitude, but I revel in collective work that moves a vision forward CREATIVITY : Imagination combined with energy and delight in using our own selves to make something happen is a pretty goo...

Five years on: How have I changed? How have you?

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LIKE A TRAIN: From the start, I created collages that helped me process and illustrate my response to the unfolding crisis that COVID-19 brought into our lives.  It felt like a train roaring towards us. We didn't know where it had come from or where it would take us. But, it seemed, we were already on board and moving with it. Where would it end? Has it ended? Are we there yet? I am not sure, but I do know that art and creative pursuits have helped me get to where I find myself today, five years later. My Daily Log recorded my evolving understanding of what was happening in those early days — Wednesday, March 11, 2020 : Three cases of COVID-19 reported in Manitoba #coronavirus Friday, March 13, 2020 : My employer (a college) announces that, due to COVID-19, students will be off campus the following week, while staff will prepare for online teaching and administration of duties. Saturday, March 14, 2020 : I tried to shop at a major supermarket but it was so crazy crowded that I lef...

To throw in the towel or to stick around, that is the question

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How do you know when to throw in the towel, to let go, to shut the door and leave? Alternatively, how do you know when it’s the moment to stay, to stick it out and do the work, to see what happens with a bit more grit and commitment? For me, this is one of the core questions in life — in all things: our work, our relationships, our pursuit of anything, really. I’ve been thinking about this ever since, on Friday evening, the news broke that here in Manitoba, the human remains found in the landfill just outside Winnipeg had been identified as those of Morgan Harris, one of four First Nations women preyed upon and murdered by a serial killer in 2022. To search or not to search the landfill was a pivotal issue in Manitoba's 2023 provincial election: The Conservative Party said no, it couldn’t be done; the New Democratic Party said yes, it could be done and would be done. The NDP won the election. The search is not an easy undertaking, but it has always been the right thing, the necess...