today

---

It's the season of goodbyes.

​***

Of people sharing photos. 

Packed-up U-Hauls idling at a curb. Suitcases and boxes blocking the back window of a minivan.

A young person smiling behind the wheel of a car moments before pulling away. Or standing in the doorway of their first apartment.
 
Behind the lens.

Love. And heartbreak.
 
***
 
1983. Trent University. 
 
A stack of new textbooks. A pile of doubt beside them. 

Fuck, I was scared.
 
Called home from a payphone on campus the first week. In a hallway between classes. Covering my ear to hear.

A quarter in the slot. The cost of reassurance. 
 
Facing the concrete wall. Quietly crying. 

How did I get here? Would I make it?
 
***
 
One of my favourite photos. 
 
Strawberry blonde Stevie Nicks' hair. 
 
In the backyard. Of the house where I had a room.
 
Making big bubbles with a little girl named Abbey.
 
***
 
Transitions and high anxiety. True companions.

A tight internal squeeze. 
 
Finding a new rhythm. Taking longer than I banked on. 
 
***
 
Then I met Dr Alan Wilson. First-year Canadian History.
 
A man with a bright mind. And a warm spirit.
 
In his quiet office. Picture windows. Shade from the trees.

Dappled light playing on the surface of a conference table. 

A dozen of us around it. Drinking in the past.

Not aware until then, I had a great thirst.

***
 
Walking down the hill. Away from Catharine Parr Traill College. 
 
Inside, a tender green shoot. A peripheral sparkle.

In a strange new place. 

Home. For a time. 

***

Sending love to anyone letting go.

---

1972