first nations


They say that everything takes time. Trauma takes time. You just need time. It wasn’t something that I could’ve believed then, though. Hell, I still don’t. Some things there just isn’t enough time for.

In the Aftermath, friends who’d suffered trauma said I just needed time and I didn’t believe them. And I want to ask them, when is enough time enough? How does the soul repair itself when it’s been through hell? And not just a one off moment of trauma but a lifetime of heavy, soul weary, trauma? When does the breath of ones being finally free itself from the binds of hell?

No one has an answer. Those well meaning friends don’t have an answer. The psychiatrist I was sent to could only tell me to read books but the answer I wanted, the answer I still seek, cannot be found any text – it never heals.

We enter into this world with a soul, one we believe is all shiny and new, freshly polished. Depending on what religion you follow, however, that soul is as old as time or new as the days sunrise.
What baggage has each soul carried with it from previous lives? What do we do to ourselves? What do we continue to put ourselves through? No soul is untarnished and with each passing day, with every little bruise, our souls become stained. With love? Trauma? Pain? Is it weary? Is it hopeful for a new life? A new day?

I have been thinking of you a lot lately. I don’t know if it’s because this is 5 years, if this is date and day, or if I just feel your strong presence because our world is in turmoil and I seek something comfortable that I know. But I feel you and think of you daily. Repeatedly. And then, when I’m alone in a room and doing something, I see something moving out of the corner of my eye and I look and there’s nothing there. Is it you? Someone else I’ve picked up? I spent a childhood with dead people. I had dreams of people before they died. Am I a conduit? If only that were the case. I’d speak with my grandparents again.

I don’t understand your pain but I understand my own. The anger. The absolute rage that I have because I was molested and people would deny that truth. For their own protection? Self preservation? I don’t know. I only know that I see you, your face. I see your pain, your death. I see your rage turned inward and onto yourself.

You beautiful girl. How I wish I could ease your pain.

You are with me every day. We are bound together. The girl who lived and the girl who died.

I sometimes wonder if I don’t purposely hold on to you, your death, the gore. Like a security blanket, it’s something I can cling to for safety. A bit of an oxy moron to those who’ve never suffered but it’s a safe pain. Something you know and understand.

I worry that I’m keeping you with me on purpose. And then for five minutes I’ll forget about you. And for five minutes I’m free. I can breathe. I don’t feel a weight tugging at me, a niggling reminder of my own impending death, my own expiry date. I am a helium balloon and you are a weight. We are counterbalanced.

I used to worry that talking about you and what happened, that people would see it as attention seeking. I would go out of my way to not talk about what happened, to not even mention it. Again, how terrible that I worried more about the comfort and opinions of others instead of myself.

First Nations believe that as long as someone tells the story, nothing is ever dead. And so I will tell my story. Maybe I won’t shout it from the rooftops (an unlikely pun) but a quiet whisper from my heart instead.


Vacation pictures, for those that care – IMAGE HEAVY

“bocce ball with father in law and hubby. hubby and I won a game each.”

“ultimate smoring happening – it’s where you put the chocolate INSIDE the marshmallow and THEN roast the marshmallow”

“facebomb your friends? just a little weird?”

“I have made fire!! now where’s wilson!?”

“I kissed a toad and I didn’t like it”

“too cold to beach so instead I start a baby sweater. Not for me, for the record”

“luscious bakery cheese bread. so delish”

“hole in one at putterama – the 19th hole is hard. if you get it in the hole (one chance) then you win this token, which I’ve been trying to win for 8.5 years”

“the land is money and I disagree with charging people to walk on land that you used to believe belongs to mother nature.”

“glass in motion glass pendant. almost every year we go I pick out a piece and hubby buys it for me. this year he’s making fun of my black heart. whatever. it’s sparkly night. they have another shop in grand bend. i like this piece, though, because it looks like an owl face”

“spf60 wasn’t helping. bought a new bottle in case my other was expired. helped somewhat but I’m just tanned now. no wicked burns”


“padawan 2”

“goodnight, Sauble. Such beautiful sunsets. I sat on the beach by myself and watched the sun set. So amazing and serene.”

“i picked a bunch o wildflowers (and weeds) on a walk with hubby and father in law. we walked to where the sauble river meets lake huron”

“Skimmer Girl. we found this skimming board abandoned and gave it to a couple of kids”

“Foggy Beach Day. this crazy day was crazy weather”

“gull. I was chasing them around while my husband considered committing me to the looney bin”

Ok, this one is difficult to see but it says, “This monument was erected in memory of all those who fought in the time war.” For the record, I wrote along the side: #Gallifrey

“about to ultimate smore, folks. not sure we can handle the excitement”

“best vacation ever!! movies, 3 tubs of candy? how can it get any better!”

“cheesebread – almost all gone in less than 24 hours”

“reminds me of coeur de l’hiver’s soap bottles”

“discount books SCORE!!”

“fingers only”

“fluffy ice cream clouds”

“i have made fire!! AGAIN!”

“kissy faces”

“momma and chicken”

“oh so hopeful – not a clue what for, though”

“pip and pop the parrots”

“read that first paragraph and tell me what you think”

“sleepy girl on the way to Sauble”

“smore face – bit dark”

“this actually happened – my fashion sense went out the window when I started shivering”

“ukulele man serenading his wifey”

“wonky face”

“woolies because it was cold”

“worst vacation ever!!”

“Inglis Falls”

“Christy at the Falls”

“Climbing the walls”

“So bored”


“high fives”


“lindsay and her chicken”

“tree growing out of a rock”

“come on, michael. time to go find your parents”

“moss covered rolling stone something something”

“pretty water”

“proof that sometimes, camera phones cannot take an accurately coloured photo. I swear to god that my chest never looked like it was covered in lava. …well, not this year, anyway”

“yep. didn’t look like that.”