Lam Unfiltered

On Saturday we hosted the Memorial for my sister. I have to say, it was a lovely tribute for her - she would have been so happy - she would have had a blast . Nieces and Nephews, sisters, great nieces and nephews - came from far and wide - through terrible weekend traffic - to honour her. I put together a small photo album, with photos from when she was a child, a teenager - a working career woman at the University. I wanted to create a picture of a woman who was more than her addictions - more than a fuck up. I wanted us all to see her at five years old - her life ahead of her - spinning in the sunshine. That photo ended up representing everything about her to me - her free spirit. I wanted them to see her sitting at her desk, smiling - organized and fully functioning. I think I succeeded. I am exactly 10 years younger than Marilyn, we were a family of 5 sisters but she was my only sibling at home, our older sisters married and out the door by 1970. She was the one I would ask...

I am obsessed with two of my toenails; two tiny fatalities from my trek through Portugal and Spain in April. It was my 5 th day walking the Camino Portuguese, and I had to climb a small mountain, really only a hill at 505 metres, but for me it was a mountain. It was raining, and the water coursed down the rocky path I was attempting to climb. My waterproof hiking boots were proving to be not-waterproof.   The path was steep, and I had to move from rock to rock, my heart was pounding with exertion and I felt absolute despair, wondering if my heart would stop and that I would be found soggy and dead, lying in a puddle. I remember thinking that if I died how traumatizing that would be for my family - so I kept on climbing, rock to rock, through the water. My guidebook described the climb as lovely one, and not too difficult. I found it hellish – and I was angry every step. I was angry at my body, for not being young and pliable, and as strong has it had been 20 years – 15 y...