Revolution MAID

So I am leaving my thesis until the end of this piece, and I am hoping that  you are with me as I put forward the argument that MAID is at the forefront of a revolution in healthcare. 

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Still

What if . . . we hadn’t yet learned to trust movement. And now here we are.

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Death

We don’t talk about how relationships never end …. it feels … like reaching through air.

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Pinkie

I love you. Your forehead; my lips. Your rings; my giving. Your lifeless body; my ring. My ring; your body leaving. My longing; your pinkie finger. My decision; topaz side by side. I love you.

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Narrative on a Wound

The wound, the wound. You know that bearded man, the one who died?  The one who died angry, who wrapped himself around me and I led him out?  Well it’s been a year now and I’ve been angry (again).  He never said good bye.

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(no) superhero

Grief and joy are opposites.  Except that grieve is the preferable word because it is not static.  And if you let it live all of its lives, joy is a word that whispers constantly. And softly.

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Altar

I didn’t intend to build an altar. I don’t worship.  But I knew what had to stand in place of that guitar.  And I know honouring now, like I did not before.  Like a parent, I guide and narrate what is left of me – what grows – now that there is no body with which to commune.  

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