To make Comments write directly to Jim at jimt@quixotic.ca
24
Dec
2022
Thursday December 8, 2022
The first Christmas after Joan died, I decided not to put away all the Christmas decorations. They spoke to me of warmth in winter, of caring and compassion, of togetherness – themes I desperately needed that first year of Covid-19 isolation.
So, for the last three years, a small ceramic Christmas tree has been sitting on a table in my front hall. It’s not much of a tree – about 12 inches high, dark green, with whitish snowflakes on the ends of its branches. A light bulb inside shines out through coloured plastic plugs stuck into holes in the branches.
If I’m going out at night, I turn it on before I leave. When I come home again, it welcomes me back, glowing softly in the darkened entry.
Categories: Soft Edges
Tags: darkness, light, Christmas tree, Lorraine
Thursday December 1,, 2022
This is the first week of Advent. Advent is the four-week period in which Christian churches traditionally prepare for the birth of Jesus. It’s considered a time of waiting, while we tidy up the dusty corners of our lives to prepare for a special visitor.
I don’t know about you, but I dislike waiting. I feel as if I’ve spent most of my life waiting for something, even if I didn’t clearly know what I was waiting for.
As a child, I waited to be considered an adult.
As a young adult, I waited for my career to find me.
As a father, I waited for my children to grow up. And when they did, I waited for them to come home.
Tags: future, Advent, waiting
25
Nov
Thursday November 24, 2022
A porcupine waddled across the road in front of me the other day. It’s an ungainly creature. Little short legs paddle along underneath a jiggling haystack of quills, with its lethal tail flopping along the pavement behind it.
Clearly, it sensed that it was in no danger. As long as it stayed right side up, that is. A predator can kill a porcupine only by flipping it over to get at its undefended underbelly.
When I got home, my cat ran to greet me. It arched its back, rubbed against my pantlegs. And then lay on its back, all four legs akimbo, to have its belly rubbed.
Whether we’re porcupines, cats, or humans, exposing our most vulnerable parts is a profound act of trust in another.
Tags: vulnerable, love, porcupine, underbelly
12
Thursday November 10, 2022
For a week, a while ago, I was a person with “no fixed address.” My daughter was out of town for a university reunion. That made me the designated driver/chaperone/security patrol for her two teenagers.
But I still had my own home, cat, and community responsibilities to tend to.
So I spent the week shuttling back and forth between two houses 30 km apart.
One morning, a woman pushing a grocery cart, piled high with all her worldly possessions, crossed the street ahead of me.
I felt sorry for her. At the same time, I must admit, I felt a flicker of scorn, maybe even contempt.
Then I felt shame. Because she and I were both in the same cart, so to speak.
Tags: baggage, Homeless, grocery cart
Thursday November 3, 2022
Another Halloween has come and gone. We’ve sent our children out into the darkness of night dressed as skeletons or mummies, ghouls and ghosties, and other things that go bump in the night.
Now the costumes have been put away for another year.
And I wonder what’s special about Halloween that we’re dressing up our kids for.
There was a time, of course, when people actually believed that the souls of the dead rose up from their graves and roamed the streets. The whole premise of Dickens’ Christmas Carol relies on Scrooge believing that dead still have a presence among us.
Tags: Hallowe'en, ghosts