A Love Story I fell in love with my husband Barry in part because of one of his favourite books, The Kissing Man, a wise and strange book of Canadian literature in the magic realism tradition. Many of the small, seemingly simple stories in this slim book feature a stranger who perceives the hidden ache for love and understanding which lives in most people. When the man kisses the inhabitants of a small Ontario town, he opens them to a …
Small Victories On a bleak November afternoon, my long-time friend David and I were talking about small victories. “I put a new shelf into the cupboard where I keep my tea, and now everything is sorted and accessible,” he said. “Isn’t it surprising what a difference finishing such a simple thing can make. Every time I go into that cupboard it makes me happy.” A bigger recent triumph for David had been reducing the number of gallons of water the …
Still the Same My dear, very old aunt Tigger, clutched both my hands and hauled herself up in her hospital bed so she could pull herself closer to scan my face. Satisfied, she whispered “Still the same,” as if that was all that needed to be said, as if it was high praise indeed. In those days I wasn’t sure how to take her words. Sameness felt stagnant, boring. But now, when there have been too many losses, too many …