holly, heather, blossom

People spoken with more than a few times,
to make arrangements for Phyllis' care,
on returning to her own home after hospital
June 10-18

Holly, Heather, Blossom, Claire, Kristin, Pam, Dalane, Nicole, Catherine, Karen, Bev, Sandy, Lynn, Annabelle, Pat, Cheryl, Susan, Myra, Regine, Jennifer, Katarina, Adelle, Ruth, Joan, Cathy, Sandra, Sarah, Camilla, Cindy, Sharon, Beverley, Joanna, Tanya, Darlene, Helen, Tammy, Courtney, Debbie, Petula, Diane, Donna, Kelly, Lois, Gloria, Pat, Karen, Dawn, Karen, Christine, Nora, Irene, Carlene, Maureen, Wanda, Laura.

apple plum dumplings, apricots

Phyllis, May 31,
2nd day in Emerg

Apple plum dumplings, apricots, why am I thinking of apple dumplings, isn't it funny how the mind works. I'll bet dad has another one, wouldn't it be funny if when I get to heaven, there he is sitting with his arm around someone. Oh no, I wouldn't get angry, I'd laugh, just what I expected, I'd say, and then behind her back I'd shove in a big needle. Where am I? Is this a hotel? I'm ready to go, I have no purpose anymore. Why are people here if they have no purpose? Your eyes are blue, so blue. Funny how you forget these things. No, I'm not thirsty or hungry or cold or uncomfortable. I'm nothing. Where do you live, it's in a forest, right? Near water. I thought so. A forest and water, that's what I remember. How far is it? Fifteen minutes by car? That's too far to walk, I don't think I'd make it. My mother was a good mother. I'm not sure why. I can't remember why she was good, what made her so good, what she did. I'll never be that good. You have to run after kids. All the time. Every day, all day. It adds up. I guess I don't have to do that anymore. Time goes by, where are those years? If dad was still here everything would be okay.

you're thinking

Stuart Ross Workshop, March 27, 2010
Above Furby House Books, Port Hope
Excerpt from a Project (Don't Call it An Exercise)

You're thinking of this guy who tore up the lawn in front of his house and how he pulled out the fat white grubs and drowned them in a white bucket and how when you walked by his house he said: wanna see a grub? You're thinking how he replaced the lawn with spruce trees and lily-of-the-valley and how eventually a forest grew in front of his living room window and the neighbours said: how odd. Then he pulled up the backyard too and planted lilacs and raspberry bushes and he didn't have a car or a wife or children and was always taking the bus and coming home with bags of things and giving you heart-shaped boxes on Valentines Day. You're thinking how he died one May and how they found his house filled with fine china and chocolate and about the jam on your toast as you drank tea from a thin blue cup he gave you and how the neighbours said: that's probably worth something.

open the door

Judy Collins
Hugh's Room, Toronto
April 1st, 2010

Open the door, glad to see you; clouds, another show, don’t let them know, give and take; a million poppies laid, grateful prayers prayed; pockets full of sand, no place to go; Southern Colorado, when he comes to call; take that away; won the heart of the lady; hurry home; in the merry month of May, a young man, my true love you’re dying, mother, mother, I’ll die for him tomorrow; stole him from the misty mountains, thirteen shelves of drugs won’t heal him; the colours of my father’s dreams, boating on the Seine I’d learn to dance; homeless men in the cold, big city blue where dreams can’t go wrong, mountain girl; Marrika; children like your own; eyes bluer in the Midwest, cufflinks, diamonds, a legend, vagabond vague, loved you already; with a voice as soft as thunder, I dream; young girls, will they ever learn; go to war, my ribbon in a box, doin’ fine, brave and free; just when you mean to tell her, lonely wooden tower, sailors, his mind; never sang to one man before a million times, lilies and lakes; you in mid-air, next year; rainbow highway, skies dare to dream, lemon drops find me.

looking at you makes me think

Phyllis' apartment
pre dinner comments
March 23, 5:20 - 5:25 p.m.

Looking at you makes me think: how old am I if this is my daughter?? Where are my cigarettes? It's not nice outside today, grey. Too bad dad's not sitting here, I'd like to look at him. I hope he's got somebody else, he must have or he'd come get me; he doesn't like to be alone. Why am I still here? Why am I so down, so tired? I used to be somebody, I used to tell people what to do; just ask Phyllis they'd say, she knows everything; now I don't know what day it is, I don't know anything. Is it 5:30 yet? When is supper? Did I eat already? Dad shouldn't have died. I'm nobody now. Don't comb my hair so rough, it's like you're peeling potatoes. How would you like it?