Some friends on Salt Spring Island are raising money so they can invite two, maybe three Syrian families to come live there with them there. Maybe they will make new lives, new starts, there. Maybe they will go from faces in the news to friends you run into in the grocery store. How nice is that?
It strikes me as the most, a sliver of the only, important thing.
If you want to send them a few bucks you can here.
It’s hard to feel loss even when it’s right in your face. My dad, he’s in decline, I don’t want to see it. Three hours after we’d had lunch together he was asking if I’d had lunch with them. He’s going. Next time I see him he’ll be a little more gone. Don’t want to see or feel any of it. And yet I don’t want not to more.
And when it’s not your family, and not your people, and not your problem …
And yet it is, and it is, and it is – and you know it, yo?
the art of compost 