The Silence Between Two Rivers

I call myself the Silence Between Two Rivers because I inherit two large streams of humanity. The stories of our interconnections are not well told, for the most part. And the pressure to choose one side or another of my identity is real. And tedious. And not nearly as interesting to me as the territory in between.

This Cracked Violin

Consider a heart as this cracked violin this instrument of various parts does it matter where it’s from? Not descended from noble European houses, it has not played in Marseilles no craftsman in Italian baroque leaned close and breathed genius into the grain.   My fiddle is a metis fiddle but not Metis, not from Red River and…

Her Singers, Her Songs

I will sing for joy. – Psalms 92:4 What music brought joy to Mom?What were Mom’s favourite songs, and who were her favourite singers? A daughter can’t always know that, as every one of us has songs with meanings we hold only in our own heart. As for the songs and singers I do recall,…

Blessed Are They

Christmas is joy, an inner joy of light and peace. – Pope Francis If there were one gift I’d have given my Mom, aside from the A-frame house she always thought would be wonderful, it would have been a chance to meet her Pope. Her pope was John Paul II, the Polish pope. Or maybe…

2015: by the Light Given

2015 it’s a day in may we watch the election turn our province map orange on screen, tuned to cbc radio for the call. i feel at home for the first time, and for a long time knowing that this would have been worth living for dad, to see your grand daughter following the flow…