Smoke signals

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a wet toothbrush on the bathroom counter. Zoom. Within milliseconds, I was transported to two years ago. My dad’s toothbrush was still wet. He was in hospice, failing. He was no longer in his own home. No longer surrounded by the flowers he’d planted…

A chip off the old block

An old friend and I had lunch today. That in itself is unremarkable. As was our marking of Father’s Day here in the States. Our fathers passed within a few years of each other, as did our mothers. And her only sibling passed away around the time my sister was diagnosed with cancer. We became…