Archives for category: Uncategorized

One of the things my daughter Cate and her youth group practice when they meet (now on Zoom) is each sharing a thorn and a rose from their week, in other words something difficult and something good. As I left the room during their meeting last night, I began to reflect on my own thorns and roses from the last few weeks.

Thorn: Dion was hospitalized in mid-March. His PSW arrived in the morning to discover that he had a fever and could not move. She called 911. The paramedics arrived in full protective equipment because of the risk of COVID-19. Dion was admitted to hospital and Cate and I had to stay home.

Rose: The Emergency Room was nearly empty upon Dion’s arrival and he was immediately seen. He was able to be properly isolated and eventually tested negative for COVID-19. After significant rest and antibiotics for an infection, Dion has recovered.

Thorn: The Dale is a community that is accustomed to spending time together. We like to hug. We want for those who are too accustomed to being in the margins to be brought to the centre. This virus has taken away the opportunity to gather, to embrace one another, and is making already vulnerable people even more vulnerable.

Rose: The Dale is still operating. We are doing take-away meals which allows us to 1) address food security and 2) briefly connect with our community. We are making phone calls and doing door-step drop-offs of groceries and supplies. Our love for everyone needs to be expressed differently, and we’re trying to do that.

Thorn: There are not enough shelter beds for people who are homeless. There are few places to properly isolate if you have symptoms or test positive. Just check out the number of tents that are being used around the city- each tent is a reminder that there is a serious lack of housing here.

Rose: This one is hard, because not enough has changed. BUT I am heartened by the growing movement of people who are petitioning that more things be done. I also know a lot of people working very hard in shelters, on the street, and in harm reduction. It takes a village, and we have a great one.

Thorn: Cate is in her senior year of high school. Yesterday would have been closing night of her last school musical and the cast party. The loss of that experience, along with so many potential others, is sad.

Rose: Cate is scrapbooking and making art. She is baking and cooking. She’s having a hard time getting to sleep, but it’s not fear keeping her awake, it’s all the plans she is making.

Thorn: I am tired. Not, I need another nap tired. It’s more of an emotional and mental fatigue. Life at The Dale is intense. I know it carries risk. The administrative part of my role has not stopped, and if anything has ramped up. And yet, I can easily feel guilty about the things I am not doing, or the things I have to say no to. For some reason the tears that typically fall easily, have not been coming out.

Rose: My pent-up emotion came out yesterday. I cried a lot. I tried to release the unhelpful guilt. I stayed off the internet and went for a walk with Dion. I ate some of Cate’s baking. Joanna sent me a picture of a crocus that reminded me of the beauty of new life. I prayed, using this from a Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals:

“Lord, help me now to un-clutter my life, to organize myself in the direction of simplicity. Lord, teach me to listen to my heart; teach me to welcome change, instead of fearing it. Lord, I give you these stirrings inside me. I give you my discontent. I give you my restlessness. I give you my doubt. I give you my despair. I give you all the longings I hold inside. Help me to listen to these signs of change, of growth; help me to listen seriously and follow where they lead through the breathtaking empty space of an open door.”

Though always present, the tension between clutter and simplicity, fear and change, fatigue and creativity, lament and gratitude, has been heightened in this time of crisis. Peace to you all in your own thorns and roses.

Many members of The Dale do not have easy access to technology. Some rely on now-closed libraries to get on-line and check email. Others have phones, but no data. So, how do we as a church connect in this time of isolation, especially when live-stream services might only reach a few?

In the early weeks of this crisis a small number of us gathered outside the building we usually inhabit on Sundays. Standing the appropriate distance apart in a large circle, we sang songs, including “and now, let the weak say I am strong, let the poor say I am rich, because of what the Lord has done for us. Give thanks, with a grateful heart…”, offered prayers of gratitude and lament, looked one another in the eye as we offered peace, and closed with “This Little Light of Mine”.

The opportunity to gather in this way has now passed. Tomorrow, as a staff we will walk along Queen St West in pairs with the requisite six feet between us to pray and deliver snacks to our friends who remain on the street. We continue to check in on as many people as possible through phone calls, texts, email and social media messaging.

As a church without our own walls, we have long felt comfortable with being outdoors. This latest decision for Sunday reflects our desire to remain present, while honouring the importance of Public Health (and keeping us all healthy). None of our decisions are made lately and we are aware that each is costly, especially to those who felt vulnerable and generally isolated before the onset of COVID-19.

In Acts, the church was one of movement. Yes, there were times people met in the temple, but it was just as common to connect in a home or by the sea. “Ekklesia”, the Greek word we get “Church” from means a gathering of people. Though we cannot gather in the literal sense right now, we have not lost our connection.

As I communicated this latest news to The Dale, I felt compelled to write this: the church has never been a building. In his letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes to tell Christians that God’s presence is not just above and around them, but within them. We are the Body of Christ on earth and the temple of the Holy Spirit, actual living and breathing sanctuaries.

So, wherever you find yourself on Sunday please know that we have not ceased being a church. 

I know I’m not alone when I say that this past week has felt like a month. Life has become very different, very quickly. At The Dale we are keenly feeling the change. Accustomed to embracing people, we are standing more than six feet away. On more than a few occasions I have caught myself instinctively reaching out to greet someone, only to have to withdraw. This does not feel right. And yet, we know it is necessary at this time.

Many are asking about how The Dale is responding to the COVID-19 crisis. As a church and community organization without walls, we rely on the buildings of others and the outdoors to run our programming. All of our partner buildings have either completely shut down or halted use. We do however have access to a kitchen that is dedicated for food prep. Yesterday four of us, all keeping physically distant, prepared bagged lunches for people. We then set up a station outdoors for people to pick up the food. From behind tables and masks we encouraged people to know we love them and are doing what we can to continue supporting them. We will do the same on Thursday when we hand out take-away breakfasts.

We also have been encouraging our community members to fill out a Community Survey so that we know what help is most necessary, and how to deliver it. We have a growing list of people we can check in with by phone. We also know people’s locations so that we can safely drop off supplies and food. Important to know is that the sense of anxiety is mounting on the street. With few options of places to go, people are getting more and more scared. We need additional shelters and housing. Some of the most vulnerable people have just been made more vulnerable.

Now, here’s some of the good news. We are also experiencing people’s generosity and care. It truly does soften the anxiety. Here are just a few of the ways The Dale is seeing light in the darkness:

A community member who until just months ago was homeless, happily received a bag of food on the sidewalk outside of her place. In turn, she had cookies for my family and a bag full of containers for The Dale to package food in.

Capital Espresso, a Parkdale cafe who regularly gives us their day-old baked goods, baked buns for us to give out. Their baker got up very early Monday morning so that we could pick them up in time for lunch that day.

Natasha, a regular volunteer at The Dale’s Monday Drop-In mobilized people to bake for us. Yesterday she arrived with individually wrapped goodies, including 500 cookies from New Moon Kitchen.

Monetary donations to The Dale have enabled us to purchase grocery cards to distribute to the community. It has been amazing to receive excited messages from people about what they were able to purchase, “I picked up meat and mushrooms and other vegetables. Thank you, thank you! I have FOOD!”

Second Harvest continues to make deliveries. Friends are leaving boxes of jars and containers on their doorsteps for us to pick up. Sanctuary, the place The Dale considers a sibling, is sharing donations with us.

Thank you to everyone who has been able to help. The Dale is committed to remaining on one of the front lines, with many precautions in place, for as long as we can. Your ongoing support is deeply appreciated. To learn more about how and what to give, visit: https://erinnoxford.wordpress.com/2020/03/19/from-one-of-the-front-lines/

For years we have been using #justanotherdayatthedale, mostly to describe the events that, outside of our context, might be difficult to relate to or sometimes even believe. We are accustomed to being a transient church and organization, one that literally does not have our own walls. As such, we regularly need to get creative about how we do things.

During this new age of COVID-19 we are fortunate to feel comfortable trying new ways of providing food and connection to our community, one that already knows too much social distance because of poverty or addiction or mental health challenges. On Sunday a small number of us gathered in a circle outside the church we usually meet in, more than arms-length apart from one another to sing, pray, and share gratitude and concerns. On Monday we screened people at the door of the drop-in space we use each week, set up a hand washing station in the foyer, and placed chairs the appropriate distance apart in the main area. Food was cooked, safely served by only three people, and consumed outdoors. Today, bagged breakfasts will be given out at the door of the Health Centre we usually meet in for breakfast and art making.

Through the week we have also been asking community members to fill out a survey, one that helps us to know what their biggest needs are right now and how to reach them. Some people want a phone call each day, so we are setting up a schedule for that. Others have provided an address or coordinates (if they are living outside) so that we can deliver food.

Though we know our plans could be subject to change at any time, all of these things mean The Dale can continue to operate. What it doesn’t do is help with a place to go throughout the day, or a bed to sleep in at night. With the closure of many drop-ins, all libraries, and community centres, and now, for instance, any Tim Hortons or McDonalds to sit in, there is nowhere to go if you don’t have a home. In a city where there was already a shortage of shelter beds, multiple Out-of-the-Colds had to shut down early. While the city is beginning to respond with things like an isolation site for up to 50 people and an additional 200-250 beds, it is truly not enough. The strain this puts on people is very real. Many of our friends at The Dale are clearly anxious and scared, while some are downright angry.

Organizations across the country require extra support right now, and that includes The Dale. We are very grateful to those who have already given money, made sandwiches, offered to help deliver food, are committed to praying, etc. It is amazing to be a part of such a collective effort. If you are wondering how to participate, here is a list of our needs:

  • brown paper bags for to-go meals
  • new food containers
  • grocery gift cards
  • Tim Hortons and McDonalds gift cards
  • pre-packaged snacks, e.g. granola bars
  • new socks
  • bottled water
  • hand sanitizer and disinfectant wipes
  • a lot of good thoughts and prayer
  • money

A donation right now enables us to purchase any needed items ourselves. To give online go to: https://www.canadahelps.org/en/charities/the-dale-ministries/

In closing, this is a prayer I read just this morning and found encouragement in: “Lord, guide us to act, live, and pray as the times determine. Make our faith grow to accommodate the needs of your people and the fulfillment of your kingdom”. May each of us experience a renewing of hope and peace on this day. Amen.

Last night I dreamt about the possibility of The Dale’s programming closing due to COVID-19 and I woke up in a sweat. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the ramifications of this virus that go beyond the obvious. If you are person who is homeless and test positive, where do you self-isolate? What happens to the many people who cannot afford to stockpile toilet paper? If your only point of connection and meal of the day happens at a large gathering like a drop-in, where do you go if it gets cancelled?

I feel increasingly aware of the privilege that so many people hold (including me) as I think about this pandemic. When I listen to the news, I hear this: quarantine yourself at home, spend money on having food delivered to and dropped off at your doorstep, continue to work remotely by pulling out your laptop. These are all important measures that will help stop the spread of the coronavirus, yes, and they are just not immediately available to every person. Things get even more complicated when you consider how many people are in the shelter system, in many cases sleeping closer together than is necessary for “social-distancing”.

As The Dale crafts a way through this challenging time, we want to be sure that our community, especially our most vulnerable members are not left behind. We know that our family style meals need to stop for the immediate future (typically each table in the drop-in passes around a large platter of food), but we can create boxed meals for people to take-out. On Monday we will be serving hotdogs outside. As a nomadic church and organization, we are well poised to continue providing support to people beyond the confines of a building. We want to respond calmly, appropriately and lovingly in this situation.

Joanna and I went to visit a friend today who is generally housebound and certainly well acquainted with poverty. His word to us? “People should really learn how to take care of each other and share”. He went on to say a number of things, including how aware he is that if he buys three rolls of toilet paper, it means two other people don’t have any. As we all navigate this unique time, I think his words are important.

The coronavirus has certainly exposed how interconnected this world really is. Whether we like to believe it or not, we have a responsibility to take care of ourselves, not just for the sake of ourselves, but for the other. For those who feel forced to slow down life, I hope good things can develop in the solitude. For those who know isolation all too well, I hope there are ways to remain connected. But maybe most of all, I hope that when we are keeping our distance from one another, we can learn to look each other in the eye more, including people we might otherwise already pass by.

Postscript: If you are wondering how to support The Dale community right now here are a few ways: 1) Donate new containers for us to package food in, 2) Donate hand sanitizer, 3) Donate money. While we are a Second Harvest Partner Agency, we anticipate needing to purchase additional items, such as the hotdogs I mentioned above, disposable cups and lids for hot drinks (recyclable if possible), etc. 4) Pray.

You can give here: https://www.thedale.org/donate/

The lead up to The Dale’s February Feast always makes me a little anxious. Which is funny, because in many ways it isn’t that different than what we do for the majority of Mondays throughout the year. It must be the unique variables: needing to cook enough turkey for 150 people without the kitchen facilities to do so and managing an Open Mic, to name two. This past week included making multiple lists, buying groceries in bulk, delivering turkeys to willing volunteer cooks, and always, a lot of prayer.

As I was driving around to pick up turkeys and vats of gravy yesterday, I was struck by how amazing it is to have such a supportive network of people that surround The Dale. Twelve people helped with cooking prep. Another had a friend make 150 packages of beautiful cookies so that everyone attending the feast could have something sweet at the end of the meal. My anxiety lessened as the van filled up with such an abundance of food.

When I arrived at 250 Dunn Avenue, the site of the feast, the space was already filled with people ready to make things happen. Together we got to work. Core community members and staff got potatoes and vegetables on to boil, made stuffing and gravy, buttered rolls, mixed punch, put cranberry sauce in bowls, and refilled salt and pepper shakers. Some decorated tables with tablecloths, tea lights and place settings. Sam, our friend and sound guy for the night, got the stage ready with gear.

Much to everyone’s delight, we also got to visit with Meagan (our Community Worker who is on Maternity Leave), her husband Ian, and their baby Charlotte, as well as our newest staff member Olivia’s husband-to-be, Grant. I have to say, it is so exciting to have The Dale’s family expanding!

By 5:30 pm the room began to fill up. More people willing to volunteer arrived too. Shortly after 6 pm I welcomed everyone and explained how things work when we gather for a meal: we are invited to take care of one another by passing the platters of food at each table, ensuring that we all get a good first serving; the meat and gravy would be delivered to each person separately, just to make sure it gets around to everyone; that we want The Dale to be as safe, respectful and peaceful a place as possible, and that we all play a part in keeping it that way; that should any issues arise to come very quickly to any staff member; we thank everyone who has participated in making the evening happen with a round of applause; and finally we pause for prayer.

The room was full, lively and…so peaceful. The Open Stage began as people were still finishing their very full plates. Children shared songs and poems. One man spoke about discovering The Dale and his memories of the daughter he lost to Leukemia, followed by a song/rap in her honour. Flowers By Irene, a band fronted by two Dale folks, rocked a set. Mr. Bittersweet, Doug, Sam, Sunny, Alisha, Peter, Marlene, Joanna, and I all offered something too.

There is something very special about the kind of community that has emerged at The Dale. We are all the things really: noisy, peaceful, raw, grateful, grief-stricken, struggling, and somehow/sometimes hopeful. We disagree. We have a lot of fun. We are discovering our togetherness in our diversity. As the February Feast came to a close, I looked around the room and thought, what a gift to be a part of this. I became aware, yet again, that the anxiety I carried at the beginning of the day had beautifully melted away.

The landscape of Parkdale is changing, as is the city of Toronto on the whole. What I notice most is the number of condos being built in places where things like storefronts or churches used to sit. Maybe less visible if you don’t know what they look like are the rooming houses that are being renovated back into single-family dwellings. A shocking number of people are being priced out of housing and ultimately displaced from what was previously their home. The impact on The Dale community is real.

I find the corner of King and Dufferin maybe the most jarring change. The land is being levelled, including the McDonald’s, in order to make room for XO Condos. While I know that McDonald’s is its own form of capitalism, this location managed to become a community hub of sorts. Imagine if you had very little money in your pocket, possibly living in a shelter or outside- where else could you easily use a washroom and buy an inexpensive cup of coffee or refillable drink? This restaurant had its challenges for sure, but the figurative hole left by its demolition is substantial.

Nearly two weeks ago, the Coffee Time on Queen Street closed its doors. The next day it was an empty space and the sign was down. Similar to McDonald’s, Coffee Time was like a living room for people. As my co-worker Joanna Moon shared in a recent blog of her own, Coffee Time was “a regular stop on our Wednesday night outreach walks, because we knew that our folks from The Dale found it to be a welcoming and non-judgemental space to spend a few hours out of the cold.” In addition, Coffee Time repeatedly extended hospitality to The Dale by allowing us to gather for Bible Study, play games and even sing carols.

For many, a McDonald’s or Coffee Time would be considered a “third place”, a place to gather outside of our homes and workplaces. For most people at The Dale, these were considered a second place, and even a first. We all need places to gather. I would argue that we need more places that honour the diversity of our neighbourhoods and create room for all people. 541 Eatery & Exchange in Hamilton is a good example: a non-profit café where you can pay-it-forward by turning dollars into buttons. Buttons can be used to buy a good meal, which not only helps feed those who need help paying, but also nurtures the kind of diverse community I am talking about, by inviting all around a table.

I know that development is inevitable. I also believe that development which does not lead to displacement is possible. The cost of housing in Toronto is ridiculously high. People who arguably sit in the upper middle class talk about not being able to afford it. If your income is $1000 or less per month (which it is for many people at The Dale), housing becomes difficult to sustain, or simply out of reach. One of my hopes is that Inclusionary Zoning- that is, requiring new residential developments to include affordable housing units, will be actively engaged.

I recently talked with a friend who, along with many others was illegally evicted out of a building in Parkdale. I was amazed at how upbeat he remains: “we’re going to fight this as a group. This has always been my home. They are going to have to do a lot worse to make me leave”. We went on to talk about our shared experience of growing up in the city, a place that is admittedly rife with challenges, but also pulsating with a lot of life. We chatted over a cup of coffee at Tim Hortons, a first/second and third place that hopefully doesn’t soon disappear too.

It has happened a few times lately. When asked about how long ago my mom died, I get the date wrong. Not the day, but the year. She died on May 22, 2017; except I keep saying 2018. It’s like my brain can’t comprehend that we are approaching the third year without her.

Since her death, life has carried on at a serious pace. Dion’s health has seen dramatic change, Cate has entered her last year of high school, and The Dale has seen both significant growth and loss. I have been repeatedly faced with crisis, during which I simultaneously leap into action and feel deep sorrow. It is in the ‘crisis pocket’ that I often catch time to consider the absence of my mom. But I don’t want that to be it, which is why I am exploring ways in which to create more space to grieve my mom.

There isn’t a day when I don’t think about her. Sometimes I close my eyes and imagine her death to be a dream. I can place myself at her bedside on that Victoria Day when she took her last breath and it takes my own breath away. And somehow, inexplicably, it feels like just yesterday that we were having one of our long chats. It just doesn’t make sense that she isn’t here.

My mom lived and breathed the hope that the grave would not be the end. The moment she died I envisioned her more alive, more vibrant, more whole than ever before. I give thanks for that. And I so wish it wouldn’t take death to find new life. It all feels so mysterious. “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known” says Scripture.

Because of Elaine Clare Grant (Muirhead) I love strong coffee, toast that’s a little burnt, and popcorn cooked on the stove. I enjoy savouring food and company while sitting around a table for a long time, just as she did. I am so grateful for the way she taught me and my brother Logan to dig into our big trunk of art supplies and take the risk to be creative, for shuttling us around to piano lessons and basketball games, for supporting our choices as adults, and for loving our families. Our mom introduced us to Jesus and taught us about what it means to live in Him.

As I open up my heart, yet again, to feeling her absence, I recall the words I closed her eulogy with:

Mom, you caught me when I failed, and were always on my team. In addition to being my mom, you were my confidante, my friend, and my cheerleader. You were a good mother. I know you are celebrating with God, just as we are here to celebrate you.

I miss you already still.

A lot has happened this year. Things that were good, things that were hard, and everything in between.

The renovations to make our home accessible for Dion came to completion. And then the troubleshooting began. The swing of a door made it impossible for Dion to close it, and so an automatic door opener became necessary. The door of the elevator failed to latch and therefore wouldn’t move (we have now figured it out). The schedule of Personal Support Workers sometimes worked and sometimes didn’t. What also transpired was that Dion, Cate and I could have dinner around our table again. And this Christmas we were all in the same place. So many of you made this possible through your generous financial gifts, participation in the meal train, phone calls and visits, and prayer. We do not take it for granted.

Our staff team at The Dale went through a few changes: Pete Nojd and Olivia Dower joined the crew, and Meagan Knight had a beautiful baby and went on maternity leave (she will be returning in the fall of 2020). On more than a few occasions I found myself dumbfounded by the work God has done to build The Dale. I recall what it felt like to be by myself, then for five years it be me and Joanna, then The Dale three with the addition of Meagan, and in 2019 almost doubling to five with Pete and Olivia. Each person is precious; each person feels a sense of call; each person brings something unique.

Cate entered her last year of high school. We have read about universities and colleges. She has been preparing a portfolio and will be sending in applications before mid-January in order to study photography. I have enjoyed every season of Cate’s life, and this one is no different. I also find myself reflecting on Cate’s early years and feeling nostalgic. Little Catie-Cate is not so little anymore. She is a seventeen-year-old with an old soul, a compassionate heart, a keen sense of joy, and a wonderful eye.

We said welcome and hello to many new community members at The Dale. We also said goodbye to Wally, Keith, Sharky, Rudy, Mary and most recently, Julie who was murdered on December 22nd. Life and death, joy and grief. As Henri Nouwen so wisely said, “mourning and dancing are never fully separated. Their ‘times’ do not necessarily follow each other. In fact, their ‘times’ may become one ‘time.’ Mourning may turn into dancing and dancing into mourning without showing a clear point where one ends and the other starts.”

Mourning has turned into dancing and vice versa on numerous occasions this past year. I often feel in a liminal space, or “in-between place”, at such times. Liminal comes from the Latin ‘limen’ which means ‘on the threshold’. I have found myself on the threshold in many situations, where I can see what is behind while also sensing what is in front. Living into this tension has been an exercise in faith and has required strength and grace not my own.

Dion is home/MS is brutal. The Dale is growing/people are dying. Cate is graduating/Cate will leave the nest. I feel thankful that in all these in-between places there is space for grief and fatigue, alongside opportunities for joy, courage, and hope. At the end of 2019, my desire for the Christmas promise is heightened. Let this weary world rejoice.

Merry Christmas everyone. May there be light in the darkness, hope in the difficulty, and love to cover it all.

I have talked (with permission) about our relationship before and the way it began outside the Community Centre at the corner of Cowan and Queen back when The Dale was still known as PNC. He was immediately menacing and demanded I give him a pair of tokens. At the time, PNC was in financial crisis and I didn’t have tokens, nor did I have the money to buy any. I tried to explain why I could not help, but none of it mattered. To Michael* I was a person he expected to have been able to meet his immediate need. Through tears I tried to explain our situation. Through anger he tried to explain his. Our parting that day was not pretty. 

Michael slowly began to show up at our Drop-In programming. His big personality and even bigger voice would fill any room. He claimed to hate our food, routinely told us our coffee sucked, and almost always became threatening. Rather than leaving at our request, he would plant his feet firmly down and say, “I am not going ANYWHERE”. Michael was accustomed to being restricted from drop-in centres and seemed intent on testing us to see what we might do. 

One day he decided to scream that I was terrible at what I do. We ended up standing, nose to nose, in an alley-like driveway at the side of one of our Drop-In buildings. I rarely raise my voice, but on this day not only did I raise it, I matched his profanity with my own. It was not one of my prouder moments. I felt something in me snap and became determined, at least in my mind, to not let him get away with the way he was treating me and multiple other people that day. Amazingly, there is a grace that transcends, and that screaming match became our turning point. 

One day this year Michael came looking for me before our Sunday service. He was clearly agitated and feeling vulnerable. I learned that he was about to lose his storage unit, the place that held everything he owned. Many of our people who are homeless rely on such spaces to keep their precious things safe, though for many the cost becomes prohibitive. We decided that I would try to negotiate with the owners a little bit of extra time to come up with a plan. Amazingly it worked.

Coming up with a solution that would fit Michael’s needs was not easy. I got very anxious as the time to clear out the old unit drew close. Pete, Joanna and I all arrived to help on move day, really not knowing what to expect. Would Michael be there? Would we get everything out in time? Would this nurture our relationship? Or, would it take us a few steps back, proving to be too vulnerable and difficult?

He was there. And we managed to move everything out and into a new storage space. To most onlookers it would have looked like mundane work, to me it felt momentous. In fact, I felt like the Holy Spirit was present throughout the day. As we parted, Michael embraced each of us (a first), and told me he loved me. When Joanna and I sat in the van afterwards, I couldn’t help but weep.

Both Michael and I have needed to discover who the other was. For many valid reasons, Michael distrusted people. For many valid reasons, I felt threatened by Michael. Building a relationship and trust was going to take time. We have developed a way to talk with one another. He makes me laugh. I make him roll his eyes. Things do still go sideways, but with less regularity. If either of us had bolted though, we wouldn’t be where we are now. And where we are now? Well, it is something I am deeply thankful for.

*For privacy sake, not his real name.