Winkler
And that’s how I found myself in Winkler—living with my daughter and her husband.
Winkler is wonderful. It has all the conveniences of a big city combined with the accessibility and friendliness of a small town. I felt at home immediately. For one thing, Winkler starts with “W”—just like Winnipeg, just like Wilma.
My daughter’s bi-level house, with its spacious lower floor, felt like it was designed just for me. Thanks to Larry’s chaplaincy at Boundary Hospital, I had immediate access to medical advice. Because of Odia’s efficiency my eating and diet concerns were well looked after. I always knew Odia was a Martha Stewart type—but I hadn’t realized Larry was a gourmet cook too. We were dining in style.
And then there’s Georgia – my granddaughter. She’s a natural nurse in the making and cares for me – almost professionally.
Last but not least there’s Charlie, their dog—cute as a button – always following me around, guarding against any hint of loneliness.
Their exceptional care quickly made a difference, and I was able to finish and publish my book and post it on Amazon. Then just when I thought I was in the clear. I was hit by the inevitable post-publication blues.
Many believe that the reason for writing a book is to publish it—and for some, it is – but for others, like myself, the joy is in the writing of it and in the processing of it. Even as a teenager, I remember transforming a corner in our barn/wood work shop into a makeshift office and then with an old-fashioned Underwood typewriter, I learned to type and finished my first novel - a romance— of course.
Then during a conversation with my daughter, Odia, I tried to explain to her my new paradigm of chaos – and fumbled. I tried to apply it to murder and didn't have the words. I hadn't thought it through - at least not in the context of murder something my daughter and I share. Her experience of her sister being murdered carries many of the same issues my experience of my child being murdered.
We have wonderful discussions about forgiveness - but what about chaos of murder?
I was facing a new question – an important question. If there are five faces of forgiveness - what are the five faces of chaos?
“It’s very hard to find your own words—and you don’t actually exist until you have your own words.” —Jordan Peterson
Winkler is wonderful. It has all the conveniences of a big city combined with the accessibility and friendliness of a small town. I felt at home immediately. For one thing, Winkler starts with “W”—just like Winnipeg, just like Wilma.
My daughter’s bi-level house, with its spacious lower floor, felt like it was designed just for me. Thanks to Larry’s chaplaincy at Boundary Hospital, I had immediate access to medical advice. Because of Odia’s efficiency my eating and diet concerns were well looked after. I always knew Odia was a Martha Stewart type—but I hadn’t realized Larry was a gourmet cook too. We were dining in style.
And then there’s Georgia – my granddaughter. She’s a natural nurse in the making and cares for me – almost professionally.
Last but not least there’s Charlie, their dog—cute as a button – always following me around, guarding against any hint of loneliness.
Their exceptional care quickly made a difference, and I was able to finish and publish my book and post it on Amazon. Then just when I thought I was in the clear. I was hit by the inevitable post-publication blues.
Many believe that the reason for writing a book is to publish it—and for some, it is – but for others, like myself, the joy is in the writing of it and in the processing of it. Even as a teenager, I remember transforming a corner in our barn/wood work shop into a makeshift office and then with an old-fashioned Underwood typewriter, I learned to type and finished my first novel - a romance— of course.
Then during a conversation with my daughter, Odia, I tried to explain to her my new paradigm of chaos – and fumbled. I tried to apply it to murder and didn't have the words. I hadn't thought it through - at least not in the context of murder something my daughter and I share. Her experience of her sister being murdered carries many of the same issues my experience of my child being murdered.
We have wonderful discussions about forgiveness - but what about chaos of murder?
I was facing a new question – an important question. If there are five faces of forgiveness - what are the five faces of chaos?
“It’s very hard to find your own words—and you don’t actually exist until you have your own words.” —Jordan Peterson
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