A Small and Beautiful Life

My uncle David –– David Wesley Marks, shown here — died on December 20, 2019. I loved him and I hadn’t seen or spoken to him in many years. He died sober and loved and loving. He died drowning in fluid from his own lungs. I loved him and I was afraid of him and… Read more »

The Silence We Inherit

Last fall I spent some time digging through genealogical records and found the secret Anishinaabe heritage no one else in my family seems to know about. My father had been trying, gently, for years to suggest it to me, but I’d silenced him over and over. I was afraid. I told myself that I was… Read more »

Fifteen Years Later

I’ve always felt things cyclically. In the spring I have a mild cough from the memory of croup. Each fall I feel a small anxiety that my family will lose itself again. The first anniversary of a friend’s death hits harder than the first day after they die. Each passing year brings me back around… Read more »

The Idea of Rest

Montréal was one of my favourite cities. Moving there because I fell in love with a musician was an extraordinary adventure and for months I reveled in every moment. People were engaging and hilarious and artistic and political and just so cool. I met two cousins I didn’t even know existed and finally felt like… Read more »

Pain, Literary Theory & A New Cat

The first time I met my cat, Sadie, she bit me twice. I was visiting her at the shelter, a week before taking her home. She hid in her bed for a long time before coming out for introductions. After she rubbed her head on my wrist a few times, she presented her ears for… Read more »