I pulled the plastic bag out of the bottom of the box. It was so heavy. What was in it? A treasure of coins? Jewellery? Gold ingots? Was the plastic going to to break from the weight of what it held?
Read MoreAs a community and workplace traumatologist I have been hard at creating resources and doing workshops since mid-March, when news of the coronavirus pandemic settled into our lives. As our neighbours to the south hit the storm full sail with over 155,000 deaths, I talked with one of my US colleagues about the sex addiction treatment industry’s silence during the pandemic. It appears they’ve made a strategic choice to be dumb.
Read MoreIt’s yours to choose.
Not mine. Not his. Not any treatment practitioner’s. Not your religion’s. Not your family’s. It’s your path to choose.
Read More“You must be the only Albertan who knows where Fermoy is!”
I remembered her words as I turned down an old road that at some point in the last five decades had acquired a name and a road sign. This was surely the last place I expected to be when I set out to sell my stash of fine wool for traditional rug hooking. The irony of the whole operation just kept getting richer and richer as I passed the sign to the Christian camp where I had first met my ex-husband, 49 years ago. I didn’t turn off there…this time. I was going to have to go a little further down this road to sell that wool. And that’s why I was here…this time.
Read MoreThis week my ex texted me news of someone’s death—someone we had known in our teens and early adulthood. He was thirteen years older than me, which doesn’t seem like much now, but back when we were young it was HUGE! In the summer he managed the camp where my ex and I met. The rest of the year he was in town running the youth center.
A flood of memories came out of nowhere.
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