A Word or Two About Trust

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When I was about five years old, some family friends took me and my three-year-old sister off my parent’s hands for an afternoon of fun, to frolic beside the pool at the hotel where they were staying. I recall that it was a beautiful, perfect, sunny day: the outdoor pool looked enormous to me but I expect that if I could see it today, I would discover it was really quite small. There was a wide set of stairs leading down into the shallow end and I spent long, pleasant minutes tentatively edging my way down to the floor of the pool. There were a number of other families there and, unable to swim myself, I watched the older kids diving off the board and swimming in the deep end with a great deal of longing.

Continue reading “A Word or Two About Trust”

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In Sickness and in Health

in sickness and in health

I am not a natural nurse. I am, in fact, pretty much the very opposite of a natural nurse. Continue reading “In Sickness and in Health”

Letter to a Pedophile

Holding-Hands-1024x683Trigger alert: this post is about child sexual abuse

Um, before you rape that little boy, could I have a moment of your time? Continue reading “Letter to a Pedophile”

Where Does Anger Go?

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“For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.”

Sir Isaac Newton

I was a serious and earnest student in school, intent on doing well and staying – just barely – on the honour roll. English was my favourite subject; math, physics and chemistry were my nemesis. And yet, the above phrase, Newton’s Third Law (yes, I had to look it up), has stayed with me. Continue reading “Where Does Anger Go?”

Little Girl

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She is four years old and utterly, heartbreakingly lovely. With beautiful, shoulder-length, curly, auburn hair and a sweet, round little head that closely mirrors that of her Mom and her Grandma, she always makes me want to gather her up and hold her forever. It has been so very long since I held my own little ones and sometimes, my arms – and my heart – ache with the recollection of my own babies’ sleepy, heavy warmth. Continue reading “Little Girl”

Going to Hell in a Hand Basket

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I love the movie It’s a Wonderful Life. I think I’ve written about this before. What a gift, to be given the opportunity of knowing for absolute sure that you made a difference. That you mattered. That your life counted for something. Continue reading “Going to Hell in a Hand Basket”

Oh No, I Forgot. AGAIN…

burn out of matches isolated on whiteI have always been forgetful. When I was sixteen, a few of my friends affectionately told me Continue reading “Oh No, I Forgot. AGAIN…”