Waking earlier than usual, she shuffles eyes half closed, holding her forehead to the bathroom to run her bath. Peeking through tired eyes at her reflection and after careful evaluation sighs with relief that Man-made masks exist in all forms.
on ashen face
painting taupe shadows and liner
illusions of a happy face
Arriving at her appointment, she settles comfortably and opens up to a face of compassion. Tears running down her cheeks, her therapist listens with empathy and continues her task…
scraping and cutting
polishing for good measure
Who knew her foot doctor could be the only one who seems to “get it”? Too bad the next appointment is only in two months.
If you talk to a man in a language he understand, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language, that goes to his heart. –Nelson Mandela
How can I not write something on this date November 15th. Je m’en souviens all too well. Sure I have mixed feelings being of two cultures and embracing both. My mother, being French Québecois has always said she was a bilingual Canadian. She has never shared the vengeance and yet she has surely experienced the unfairness and the disrespect all too often.
My father, being of Irish and Welsh background, his maternal grandfather settled here due to his Irish Catholic background but his father being of the mindset of English is best allowed me to feel the humiliation for my mother.
French speaking persons in the 50’s and 60’s could not get decent work if they did not speak fluent English and even then, it was difficult to rise in a company carrying a French name. How this has changed dramatically today!
I understand the need for change. One must be mindful, when the pendulum swings too much and stays there, it turns justice into resentment and vengeance. And being of these two cultures, I have too often been on the fence carrying the sins of my ancestors.
in the making
a new government is born
Vivre le Québec Libre
français shall rule
laws to preserve their language
change well past due
years of oppression
fuels their passion
the pendulum swings
The sun shines brightly in the cold pale skies and yet, her soul is filled with greyness? The day will move slowly as she shuffles through my clutter. That old overcoat that should have been thrown in the trash, swings gently from side to side. What is she doing still holding on to those tan boots that cramp her toes? They remind her of better days and happy times, strutting with a sense of purpose. As she moves further into the greyness she finds her mother’s old raincoat she has yet to wear. As slips it on, she feels her presence…still.
This morning I could only reflect “freely” on this and so these haiku are my writing freely. It finally went minus 5 C and snow covered the lives on the side of the streets. I had to take the plunge and wear my winter coat and warm scarf. brrrrrrrrr