Search

Gwen Tuinman

Novelist Speaker Advocate

Tag

family

Essie

Essie was born in 1884. She was my great grandmother and a source of fascination for me as a child.

When visited her home as a young girl, I marvelled at the glass prisms lining her windows and the rainbows cast along her walls. Essie served sultanas and pink marshmallow cookies sprinkled with coconut. She’d sit patiently, eyes closed behind her wire-rimmed glasses, while I brushed her hair. I was nine years old and she was ninety. Continue reading “Essie”

Feeling Nostalgic — Knit, Crochet, Tat, Write

lady knitting on her porch

I’ve always been fascinated by handcrafts. Crocheting. Knitting. Tatting. At one time or another, I’ve known how to do all of these things, at least in a very basic way.

My maternal grandmother shared her love of crocheting by teaching me to create circles and squares with a hook and yarn. My paternal grandmother taught me to knit and to tat. The tatting shuttle took a great deal of patience to operate. Her pillowcases and handkerchiefs were trimmed in lace created by her shuttle. I remember that she had an ivory shuttle that once been her mothers, my great-grandmother. Continue reading “Feeling Nostalgic — Knit, Crochet, Tat, Write”

Feeling Nostalgic — About Children

Our Children P1020006

As I write this afternoon, I periodically glance up to take stock of the room. It’s so quiet I forget that I’m not alone. My husband is leafing through a gardening magazine. It’s a very Canadian thing, this longing for planting season while snow is still in the forecast. Continue reading “Feeling Nostalgic — About Children”

Feeling Nostalgaic — Hearts Tied to a Tree

DSC_0405

A  friend of mine recently shared her feelings connected to the cutting down of a tree in her yard. I thought of paraphrasing her words, but she expressed her thoughts so beautifully, I couldn’t alter them. She wrote, “We lost a dear tree today, a beautiful green ash that stood eighty feet high. Years ago when our house was being built and all we had was a wooden shell that tree rose above the roofline and declared itself part of the house. It’s been a home for squirrels and birds and probably a raccoon here and there. It hurts that we lost it.” Continue reading “Feeling Nostalgaic — Hearts Tied to a Tree”

Growing Compassion for Bipolar Disorder

header shotAnyone whose had a cold will tell you it’s uncomfortable. There’s a headachy feeling that renders us pale and listless. It comes on the heels of sleepless-can’t-breathe nights that leave our eyes ringed in shadows.

The thing about having a cold, is that everyone understands what ails us. We usually garner some degree of sympathy from those around us. Folks understand that the coughing, sneezing, and snuffling are symptoms. We don’t worry that people will find out we’ve gone to the doctor for help when the cold gets the better of us.

What if we changed the wording in the previous paragraph? Suppose that cold turned to bipolar disorder. Imagine that coughing, sneezing, and snuffling became mood swings, altered judgment, and puzzling behavior. What if we could change the words and the paragraphs still rang true? Continue reading “Growing Compassion for Bipolar Disorder”

A WordPress.com Website.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: