Tag Archives: shack

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happy

Ok, this is a weird little poem to my sister Chris, who died a decade ago. My father died thirteen months later. My mother was already dead. Mother and sister of cancer and father of emphysema, damn the Camels. There was no family slaughter, unless it was by cancer. There was a family meltdown on my mother’s side. Sometimes you have to let people go.

Sister sister mister miss her
look, Chris, I’m happy

Cancer cancer crabby dancer
look, Chris, I’m singing

Daughter daughter family slaughter
look, Chris, I’m healing

Healer healer wheeler dealer
look, Chris, no drama

Wombing wombing quiet blooming
look, Chris, I’m growing

The photograph is of a family cabin in Ontario. It is called “The New Cabin”, “Helen’s Cabin” (after my mother) or “Chris’s Cabin” after my sister. As you can see, it is suffering through neglect worsened by Covid-19. I put those screens up a decade ago, but they are not surviving the winters and the porch roof has a hole. It was a lovely porch to sleep on. I was last there in 2018, and up on that roof trying to tar holes as a temporary fix. We did not dare go on the porch roof, too late for that. Things change and fall away and sometimes we have to let them go. Especially if they are beyond repair. The photograph is taken earlier this year by the people who care for the cabins when we are not there.

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Any day now

any day now

I will be going going to the lake to the rocks to the place I went to when I was five months and in the womb too

any day now

no electricity and the cell phones don’t work we filter the lake water now as the coliform count rises but still the water I taste it and memories rise like fish like turtles like lake trout from the depths my sister wants her ashes there but no worries there are bits of all our skin my uncles ashes were scattered there last time I went I burned a little of my hair my father’s hair my daughter’s hair my son’s hair so that our ashes would be there too

any day now

forwarded email as I’ve left the cousin email in protest of the emails about my father’s will circulating behind my back the propane delivery has closed down and we must go out of Blind River for propane the 100 pound tanks have to be carried upright which makes the rental car more of a challenge we used to get 60 pound tanks but they are harder to replace we are all always getting older

any day now

my cell used to work on one cabin porch when it was overcast but that was tmobile and I have another now so probably it won’t work and we are all still broken in the aftermath of my sister I will look in the cabin and donate all the shoes that none of us will every wear hers her daughter’s her husband’s that cabin is a castle a monument of dreams and I have not been there for three years and I hear the roof is going we don’t have enough money or cooperation I thought the Trust we fail at that by the way was 30 years but it is 40 and we are now half way and I am thinking about how to handle it

any day now

because I love this land this lake and I will not give it up oh Beloved help us heal