Father’s Day

When I think of my dad these days, what comes to mind is, oddly enough, my leg. Specifically it’s the back of my right calf. It’s balding. Again I’m reminded of God’s sense of humour when it comes to aging: every leg hair that I’ve lost has magically reappeared up

Continue reading

Dundonald Park

Photo: Dundonald Park in 1916, from Wikipedia. When my partner and I returned to Ottawa after a decade’s hiatus, we had a shortlist of acceptable neighbourhoods in which to live – all downtown, because why in the world would I flee a narrow-minded place like Prince Edward County only to

Continue reading

Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day was mostly just another day. My mother never let me attempt breakfast in bed. Chances are, she cooked breakfast for me. Mom’s right arm was never the same after the cancer, and her tendency to swing hot pans close to my head became a nervous running joke. Mom

Continue reading