Photographs of my father

He’s ninety-six now, living in a residential care facility in B.C. I can’t call him on the phone anymore. He hears very little and struggles with dementia. My sister tells me that until she mentions me, he doesn’t speak of me. Then our father remembers the daughter two provinces away. …

A most important journal entry

After years of teaching journaling workshops, the regular habit has slipped away from me. Life is moving faster. I’m moving slower. Taking an hour at the end of each day to jot my thoughts and prayers simply rarely happens anymore. I’m poorer for that. Quiet reflection, pondering both simple and …