As Parliament awaits the imminent arrival of a report on assisted suicide that may make a bad situation even worse, it’s worth noting some chilling stories from the first countries to legalize medically induced death. This could be our future.
Last summer, Ottawa constitutional lawyer Albertos Polizogopoulos and I were on Ottawa’s Sparks Street when we encountered a sign warning we were entering an abortion safe-access zone.
I love making lists. It is how I fall asleep at night. Sometimes I try to name every baseball club and at least one player from each team, or think of 10 music albums I would bring with me should I ever be sent to an offshore penal colony or to the opera.
I have become used to the cacophony which inhabits the downtown of the city and usually treat it as background noise as I walk around.
The other day, I went to pay my respects to the widow and two children of a friend and neighbor whom I played pick-up hockey with for several years. He was only 55.
As a photographer, I always assumed my interests were odd. My preferred subjects were dilapidated buildings, rusted metals and abandoned spaces. I love detailed closeups of ghost phrases — slogans and ads painted on crumbling surfaces that are still just visible to the eye, decades after the products were available. Driving through the countryside I will often pull over to photograph a collapsed shed, a rusted sign or a crumbling wall.
A peacemaker
Re: Reflections of a nation in a time of grief (Nov. 18):
Fr. J.A. McDonagh’s account of the events following John F. Kennedy’s assassination was remarkable. Reflecting on the tragedy, he wrote: “Nothing will be the same again until merciful time has weighed all the evidence produced.”
Canadians generally prefer that people wait their turn, but compassion sometimes demands that we unite and jog someone to the front of the line. That time has come in the case of Asia Bibi. We should take her hand and hurry her to save haven in Canada.
When Montreal’s English Speaking Catholic Council hosted a talk on faith and immigration the quintessential church hall basement of St. Kevin’s Parish on Côte-Des-Neiges Road was an obvious choice.
Thank you, Lord, for the gift of Your presence during my time of silence. You have given me the human ability to still myself and listen. You have blessed me with freedom from physical or emotional maladies which could hinder my ability to be silent and still. Yet, despite that gift, a million excuses keep me from coming to You.
Energy is one of the great miracles of life. As the trees lose their leaves and preserve energy for the spring, I have been thinking about how I spend my energy, and what human dormancy looks like.