Category: Memories
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Memory #25: Shattered
It all started innocently enough. It was Family Day Long weekend here in Alberta (third weekend in February) and I was hosting my brother and sister (and their families) for dinner. It was a bit of an oddity as I was deeply embroiled in my schoolwork so coming up for air, especially to host a…
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Memory # 26: Erin (Memories with in a memory)
I was fourteen when I met Erin. She was amazing. Far too cool to be dating my brother. Tall, beautiful, so cool, with black lace, Madonna-esque high heeled shoes, she breezed into our house, coming to meet us for dinner the first time. I was stunned! SHE WAS SO COOL. She worked at a car…
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Memory #27: Dead to me
“He died.” I said quietly. He hadn’t, but that’s what I told the woman who asked what happened to my boyfriend. I was eighteen and had been dumped. He was the first boy I had ever loved, trusted fully and completely with my heart. I’d lived with him and everything and one night, he declared,…
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Memory #28: Inequity
Inequity. It is a word we hear tossed around a lot these days. At its core, it is an instance of unfairness or injustice. Simple, right? So easily righted, or so it seems. See a wrong, point it out, have it corrected. It should be fair and equal and made right. I learned several years…
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Memory #29: Small town
I grew up in a small town. Well, technically, I grew up west of a small town. About 20 minutes out of town, but we did everything in the town. It seemed like the thing to do. When we moved there, the town had a population of about 3800 and had grown to about 7400…
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Memory #30: Vegetables don’t grow on trees
When I was a kid, we had a vegetable garden. I grew up in the country, on an acreage that was 3.6 acres. Which, at the time, didn’t mean much to me other than we had lots of room to run around, plenty of dirt to play in, and a ton of space to grow…
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Memory #31: Signs
Sometimes, the universe tries to tell you something, you just have to shut up and listen. Often, we ignore it, brushing it off as coincidence or bad luck. The funny thing is, even when you see it in hindsight, we are apt to keep repeating the same mistakes over and over, but I have to…
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Memory #32: People who change your life part 2
Late last spring, my very dear friend, Chris, a university professor, approached me about consulting on a research project he was thinking about taking on. He wanted me to work as the project manager for a cross-country research initiative for a combined scientific and humanities project, pioneering changes in the agriculture community. Without delving too…
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Memory #33: Two blue lines
It happened quite by accident, even if it was on purpose. After the miscarriage many months before, my body was not cooperating. My cycle was wonky, my temperature (which I was charting) was all over the map, and well, I had little hope of conceiving again. My husband living out of town limited our window…
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Memory #34: Diagnosis
I have always liked the phase, The whole is greater than the sum of its parts. – Aristotle The pieces of anything, whether it be a set of Lego, ingredients for a pie, flowers for an arrangement laying on a table, or the soft fleshy pieces of a person, are only the that – pieces,…
The Voices In My Head 