It’s still sinking in I suppose, doesn’t seem real. Took the nieces out for dinner at the oh so posh Shore Club with its high ceiling and waterfall of glass. It was Diana’s birthday. I’ve heard that people often die on their birthday. It happened with my mother. We were celebrating K’s graduation and L’s birthday so I didn’t bring it up. They only remember her vaguely; it’s been so long since they saw her. I get teary when I think of my sister and I as girls and the way she used to be, the way she always was—sweet, generous, compassionate.

My girls are not girls anymore. They got lost on their way after taking a wrong turn, K at the wheel! I was shocked to find out L is pregnant! She is only 21. I will be there for her no matter what she does but Continue Reading »

Aug. 3, 2008

Loss a motif . . . I found out yesterday that my sister Diana died. Equally heartbreaking—we were estranged and had not spoken for over ten years. My nephew’s wife called because my other sister doesn’t talk to me either. Sheesh. What a family. I have felt so bad about it for so long but dysfunctionality is not uncommon. Most days I feel relieved I’m not subjected to the distress and bull crap we so capably subjected each other to. Small consolation. The normal, happy family is the rarity. Estrangement is relatively easy to ignore day to day but painfully evident at a time like this or the holidays when people come together to celebrate. Oh, that’s what the gorging and drinking was all about. No one told me. It’s a sad situation and I know it hurts my nephews. Still, it’s better than the afore mentioned bullshit. There are no easy answers, solutions often, in life. I have suggested a few, over the years, and extended the olive branch, more than once. It was still blowing in the wind last time I checked. Continue Reading »

July 31, 2008

Home sweet home at last. I’ve been on the road for nearly a month! My songbirds are missing, after two weeks without seed. Josef’s birthday. I think he’s 48. Bought him some Daniel’s chocolates but they had no marzipan, which he relishes, being a good German.

In the news, a young man is stabbed and beheaded on a bus from Edmonton to Winnipeg! This progressive country is often host to some of the most gothic and bizarre incidents of violence. I don’t understand how the perpetrator can be charged with second-degree murder. Doesn’t one have to be insane in order to do such a horrific thing? I find myself trying to read between the lines in the news coverage, which never delves beyond the facts, understandably, but how to make sense of such madness? What possessed him to appoint himself executioner? Why did he pick this particular person as his victim?

Good news. I am thrilled and honoured to be selected for Rocksalt: An Anthology of Contemporary BC Poetry, the first in over thirty years. Editors Harold Rhenisch and Mona Fertig requested a poetic statement. Why do I write poetry. What does it mean to me. I was unable to provide one right away, as I was on the road but upon my return found myself procrastinating. I don’t like being pinned down, would rather hide out in the poems. This is what I came up with: Continue Reading »