My mom’s dying is so gradual that I feel like I am watching a tree return to the earth. She hardly moves now, and Parkinson’s is stealing her voice and her expressions, just as she feared. But if I sit beside her and look into her eyes I know what she is thinking. Her eyes … Continue reading Mama
Death
Mama is Preparing to Leave this World
Every time I return from Toronto I know that these trips will be over soon. After my dad and his wife died I never went back to Victoria. The home, the chairs sitting in the sun, the desk with the photos, the box of tea, the couch where I crashed, were gone. Those very things … Continue reading Mama is Preparing to Leave this World
Tiny Moments of Reflection
In many tiny moments I think about life and death. If I am carefully pouring sugar water into a small glass bottle for hummingbirds, I think about my Dad and how he would have done this, when he was alive. How my Dad would have enjoyed my bird feeders, and laughed with me about the … Continue reading Tiny Moments of Reflection
Mom and the Old Bitch Above
There was a time in my youth when I wished my Mom was dead. As soon as I wished it I realized that it was a terrible solution. I knew that my Mom drove me crazy in various ways but it was certainly not fair to request her death in order to set me free … Continue reading Mom and the Old Bitch Above
Magical thinking, magical writing
My Mom and I were talking about memory and writing; recollection. She said it is too bad she cannot write down all the things that she is thinking and remembering, recollecting and sorting. And and I said, does it matter, after all? Do we need to record the details of our lives, does it matter? … Continue reading Magical thinking, magical writing
Examining my Breasts
I found a piece of writing in a dusty file and pulled it out. It was something I wrote about breasts and self examinations 12 years ago. Since then I have had close relatives lose their breasts to the scourge of cancer and I am even more appreciative of the old gals. While looking for … Continue reading Examining my Breasts
Illness onto death, or let’s just not talk about it.
We happily live in a bubble of health until we are struck down. It is very hard to live in a constant state of appreciation for your present health without getting maudlin or morbid. It is probably best not to think about it at all. The people who live best do seem to have a … Continue reading Illness onto death, or let’s just not talk about it.
My Dad Died
My Dad died. A universal experience and yet the pain is so personal. We all come to a stage in childhood when we realize that we are going to have to live without our parents and it comes as a terrible revelation. Then as an adult we bury our fear of death and pretend that … Continue reading My Dad Died
Notes from a Sinking Isthmus 