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Stories From The Rec Room

October 29, 2014

lovely writing and ‘Colors of the Wind’ is a wonderful song.

A Patient Voice



My sister visited and the two of us carried my Father’s old chair from the rec room to the curb. Letting go and closure are not lines in the sand, they are like storms that blow across Lake Huron. Come and go.

I am laughing to myself now as I imagine my one of two Michelles, in a canoe paddling and singing “The Colours of The Wind”.

What a beautiful song.

What a beautiful friend.

What a beautiful friendship.

During the time that the chair had been vacant, a mouse had built a nest in the chair’s pocket, a home made of Kleenex and shredded up pieces of cardboard from the boxes of macaroons that my Dad, the man that said every kid deserves a chance, would feed my dog Otis who would grin like an ass eating thistles.


Memories wrapped in memories.

Loss wrapped up in…

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One Comment
  1. Thanks for the rebog! Being noticed took away the dreariness of Ontario in November from me. I appreciate it!

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