Tag: family

  • Down By the Bay

    Down By the Bay

    I’m in Kamloops visiting our daughter and granddaughter for a few days. Totally lucked out on the weather! Yesterday, Laurinda and I went for a float (oh, pure bliss!) and then meandered down to Cooney Bay. We wandered, took photographs (mostly me), and looked for pretty stones (mostly Laurinda). It was simply a wonderful afternoon!…

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  • Letters From the Afterlife

    Letters From the Afterlife

    A few weeks after she died, I opened her mailbox and found a letter addressed to my mom written in her own handwriting. Yesterday, I read a sample from Joy Williams’ short story collection, Ninety-Nine Stories of God and the first story, Postcard, reminded me of that day. It’s very short. I tried to find…

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  • I’ve Been Thinking About This Young Woman

    I’ve Been Thinking About This Young Woman

    I’ve been thinking about this young woman. This photo was taken in 1977 when she was 18-years-old. She thought she had things figured out, but had already chosen to let go of personal dreams and ignore relationship red flags. She would pay a steep price for those decisions, as would those around her and those…

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  • Joy Sparkers Abound

    Joy Sparkers Abound

    What a great week it’s been. I was inspired to jot down a few things that have sparked joy in me the past couple of days and thought I’d share it here. A good haircut (at last!). Seeing and hearing kids playing outside and wearing shorts and t-shirts. Flocks of Canada Geese returning from their…

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  • Down By the Bay

    Down By the Bay

    I’m in Kamloops visiting our daughter and granddaughter for a few days. Totally lucked out on the weather! Yesterday, Laurinda and I went for a float (oh, pure bliss!) and then meandered down to Cooney Bay. We wandered, took photographs (mostly me), and looked for pretty stones (mostly Laurinda). It was simply a wonderful afternoon!…

    Rrad more . . .

  • Letters From the Afterlife

    Letters From the Afterlife

    A few weeks after she died, I opened her mailbox and found a letter addressed to my mom written in her own handwriting. Yesterday, I read a sample from Joy Williams’ short story collection, Ninety-Nine Stories of God and the first story, Postcard, reminded me of that day. It’s very short. I tried to find…

    Rrad more . . .