Monthly Archives: August 2024

A Bird in the House*is an extraordinary novel (series of short stories) by Canadian writer Margaret Laurence. I was first introduced to the book in Senior High School English during a particularly coming of age time. The short stories, themes … Continue reading →

Below is the complete (unproofed) version of the Eulogy Scott and I read at Dad’s Celebration of Life service. Richard Davies Eulogy – Part 1 (Heather Davies) Hi, I’m Heather, Richard Davies’ daughter and older sister to Scott, and I’d … Continue reading →

Mom and Dad began a newlywed adventure when Dad secured his first senior high english teaching job in Grand Centre and moved to Cold Lake. As food choices were scarce in the small town, they soon purchased a freezer to … Continue reading →

Armed with proof of life for Dad (am I not the ultimate proof of life? and loss, for that matter?), we headed back to the Funeral Home today to sort out some more paperwork. Nine minutes early in the parking … Continue reading →

We are gathering documentation today to prove who Dad was and that he is gone. The irony leaves me breathless. I am tempted to write so very much more here, but I must refrain. I am too tired, for I … Continue reading →

Outside of card (the double-sided paper was folded): Dad heard a song of Phil Ochs around the time of listening to other folk artists such as Joan Baez and Ian and Sylvia in the mid 1960s. He identified it as … Continue reading →

This afternoon’s matchup: Collapsing boxes for recycle vs. immeasurable grief and loss. Analysis: No contest. Winner: W.H. Auden.

The Celebration of Life display for Dad was deliberately simple (Thoreau-like stripped down), but it had all the essentials. The urn, chosen by Dad, represents transformation. His picture was snapped during a family occasion, mid-laugh. Reading glasses hang out of … Continue reading →

A grieving daughter’s journey into consciousness The day after a Celebration of Life and burial for my father, the words Dad lived his life by – Emily Dickinson’s “I dwell in possibility” – were juxtaposed starkly against my own state … Continue reading →