I miss Nelson Mandela. I can feel the shift as if his very presence on Earth, the simple fact that he was breathing, kept us safer. I felt the air go out of me, felt my insides collapse, when I heard the news of his death—despite his death being imminent […]
Wendi Stewart – Wendi with an ‘eye’
Wendi lives in Nova Scotia’s Annapolis Valley, but the farm on Rainy River in Crozier will always be her home. MEADOWLARK, her debut novel released September 15, is published by NeWest Press of Edmonton. She is the mother of four daughters who did the unforgivable: they grew up. http://wendistewart.writersresidence.com
There are some sounds that happen in life that I find calming, relaxing, soothing. Sounds that are deliciously marvelous, such as a baby murmuring in her sleep with a sigh that says life is perfect, a meadowlark in the spring with her voice floating in my window on a soft […]
I don’t like to travel. There, I’ve said it. That’s a load off my chest. I also stole a piece of bubble gum from Perlette’s grocery store when I was five. It’s been weighing on my soul all these years, and I almost blurted out the truth on more than […]
It’s November. And where I am (which is not where you are, I realize), it is warm and quiet outside. The leaves, for the most part, have fallen from the trees and are resting on the forest floor while transforming themselves into something else. The leaves in October have a […]
I’m not a city person. There is no part of me that could pull off being a city-dweller. Still, I think it’s good for our global understanding that we rural and small-town folk are able to glimpse the reality that most of the world’s population experiences living in cities. Observing […]
I’m not a fan of crowds; not a fan of large gatherings of any kind. The noisy chatter is like litter on a windy day, blowing up in my face and making me wince. What happened to sitting quietly and waiting, for whatever we are waiting for, to begin? I […]
November is Diabetes Awareness Month. I’ve been “Diabetes Aware” since Thea, my youngest daughter, was six. And thanks to the dedicated efforts of Sir Frederick Banting and his colleague, Dr. Charles Best, Thea is alive at age 21. Ninety years ago that wasn’t the case. Those with Type 1 diabetes, […]
I don’t suppose many of us can recall the day we took our first steps, the letting go of the coffee table, with our arms raised for balance, our legs slightly stiff, undoubtedly a look of surprise on our face and a feeling of being almost superhuman. It must have […]
My mother is gone. As a dear friend’s grandmother used to say: she is away. I like that better than gone because my mother will never truly be gone. She was away on Oct. 14 at 5:35 a.m. Thirty-nine years and two days after my father and two days before […]
I walk early in the morning, and I walk with “Gracie.” I head out the lane and turn up the neighbour’s hayfield, heading away from the rising sun. I look forward to this particular morning responsibility. I contemplate a lot of ideas, worries, and hopes on my morning walks; letting […]
My father died on Oct. 12, 1974. It was the Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend. The day was cold, a light skiff of snow lay on the ground, and my heart seemed to stop beating with his. I’m not sure when my heart started beating again; I can’t remember. Didn’t notice […]
I like to iron. I like how the task takes all the creases and lumps and bumps and makes them smooth—a metaphor for life. I like the bursts of steam—the warmth and the pssst; a bit of music to my ears. Men used hankies when I was a kid, big […]
