Growing with gratitude for life's challenges
The boy at the door was tall and slim, and although I had no idea who he was, he said: “You must be V.J.!” A whoosh of Mom’s skirt obliterated my response. She was hugging and kissing him and exclaiming: “Oh my! Can’t believe it is you!” Then my sisters were there, crowding our small […]
Read More
The best openings are the one’s we carve for ourselves. We spent New Year’s Eve reminiscing about eighteen years of togetherness. Stayed up past midnight, and talked about our future. Hope coloured our words. Sculpting has been on my mind – not literally, but in the sense of chipping away at the outer facade to […]
Read More
A silent invader, the snowcreeps in overnight, transforms No weapons of war, just a softblanketing pronouncing victory Invasive and inevitable, we sigh acceptanceand still the river flows, for now. (For Nancy Merrill’s A Photo a Week Challenge: In My Neighbourhood.)
Read More
“Grab your camera; let’s go for a drive!” Ric knows how to pull me out of my doldrums. Despite the cold wind, the day is not without merit. We drive to another small town, just thirty minutes away. Here, wetlands and a wooded trail attract a multitude of birds. I snap a few pics of […]
Read More
It started with a tree. Something about the texture of the bark appealed to me, so I took a picture. Then I examined the image on my computer, and pondered what the image was saying to me. Did it need altering? Was it worth keeping? Every time I looked at it, I was drawn to […]
Read More
The new year grabbed me in a choke hold and hog-tied me before I had a chance to even think about what it might bring. It started with a text that my mother was in hospital, followed by a harried searching of flights and anxious speculating about how I’ll get home. Me, who hasn’t ventured […]
Read More
My granddaughter paints a row of red flowers with crosses in between. Â “Flanders Field” she tells me. Â She’s six. “Your great-great grandfather, my grandfather, was shot in Flanders Field.” She raises her eyes to meet mine. Â “Did he die?” “No, but he was injured.” He was crawling across the field when the bullet entered and […]
Read More
There is a painter inside of me busting to get out. Â She talks to me, while I am working – makes suggestions, helps me pick the right brush, encourages different strokes. I like it when she is present. Â Listening to her is an act of letting go. Â It is a form of trusting. Â A growing […]
Read More
“What do you pray for?” “Inner peace.” “And what are you willing to sacrifice in order to achieve this desire?” The question startles me. Â “What do you mean?” “To achieve the sacred, you must be emptied of that which obstructs its passage. Â What stands in the way of receiving your highest good?” I have to […]
Read More
It snowed early that year, and those who gathered at the church hall were dressed to keep out the cold, mumbling about the weather, and helping themselves to warm beverages. Â Seems deaths come in threes, and this was the third of our family members we’d buried in as many months. “Where’s Uncle Charles?” I asked […]
Read More
