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Child support…

November 17, 2010


I am going to tell you what my life should be like…

First of all I would have NO sisters and I would be an only child…

I would have 2 dogs and a horse…

The dogs would be twins named Sam and Holly…

I would have three best friends and we would be like sisters…

We would each have a horse that we would ride every afternoon…

For my tenth birthday,

my friends and I would go to a ranch (in the prairies) for one week…

— in My life without a sister by Starshine, 2009

When I find things,

like this,

in my desk,

I have to laugh,

only because,

I’ve definitely,

been there…

And I know,

that when I bring,

the documentation,

to the table,

for discussion,

Starshine will say,


That was from long ago…

It’s so ancient history…

Can we not move on???

Due to how,

I’m constantly,


my thought processes,

and inner speech,

for the intents,

and purposes,

of teaching,

and learning,

Starshine has no trouble,


she has conducted herself,

in ways,

she questions…

And she is the first to say,

at eleven years old,

I can’t believe I did that…

What was I thinking???!

Sometime this past year,

Starshine and I were in review,

about friendship,

and the lines we’ve crossed,

as we live and learn…

She told me,

she’s already taken care,

of trying to right,

some wrongs,

by going back,

and saying,

I am so sorry…

I wondered how her words,

have been received…

She said,

My apologies have generally been accepted…

But I know the people I hurt still don’t trust me,

and I understand why they don’t want to be friends…

You can say sorry all you want,

but it’s your actions that tell the truth…

When children mirror the adult world,

in their schoolyard behaviour,

we only have ourselves to blame…

We can talk up a storm,

about empathy,

but until we uncross,

our wires,

and set,

our internal frequencies,

to a different station,

the signals won’t sync,

to send a clear message…

We don’t always see,

a solid rudder,

watching our parents…

I remember listening,

to my father,

talk about the values,

he’d figured he raised us on…

I searched his pontifications,

for something,

I could hold in my hands,

but the substantive reality,

slipped right through my fingers…

Some people spend,

their whole lives,

bemoaning the fact,

that they never had,

a proper,

father figure…

Dragging a poor me character,

from chapter,

to chapter,

like an anchor,

along rock bottom…

It never occurred to me,

to keep rewinding,

and playing,

the same old tape,

that I always had a father,

who wasn’t convinced,

I was his,

because the story,

brought me right,

back home,

to the exact place,

I need to be…

And look at me,

now I’m fantastic!

My story,

of belonging,

with the warm,

black stones,

of myself,

and my people,


and wherever,

we stumbled upon,

each other,

is centred on,

powerful tradition,

and evolving consciousness…

This legend,

I keep,

in my invisible pocket,

continues to,

hold me,

as I float,

down stream,

to deep,



with no more fear,

of drowning…

Mr. Foreverman,

the roofer,

dropped by,

with a full,

glad bag,

for the women,

in my neighbourhood,

who support themselves,

and their families,

by collecting,


Based on evidence,

prior knowledge,

and gut feelings,

he suspects,

the possibility,

of moisture problems,

in the vaulted ceiling,

of what he calls,

Number 4…

He told me,

not to say,


so’s not to whip up,

unnecessary panic,

until he can get up,

on the roof,

and feel around,

for rot,

in a game of cards,

that’s never been played,

with a full deck…

A lot of people,

around me,

get off on calamity…

For some,

it’s the only way,

they can be certain,

of a pulse…

So one part of me,

wants to be,

of service,

and tell the world…

But another part,


to keep a lid on it,

until further notice…

Waiting for,

some light scaffolding,

a couple of monkeys,

and a well-mediated,

dynamic assessment,

to move everyone,


the ultimate zone,

of proximal,


The other evening,

the five of us were watching,

one of our favorite things,

with four paws kneading,

their mother blanket…

And I said,

I can’t wait to drive a pick-up,

with horse power,

out the wazoo…

And I think the cats,

are really looking forward,

to a good roll in the hay…

Starshine wondered,

What colour truck???

I looked at her and said,

What do you think???

And then without a sound,

our nine eyes met,

in the middle of that moment,

and cracked,

a high-voltage,

full-body smile,

for what only they,

could see…

Put it in the ground where the flowers grow... (photo: Starshine)

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