It’s a cold winter day – the kind of day when I just want to curl up and go back to sleep. Christmas with its bright lights and good will has come and gone and we are left with frigid January. Guess you can tell I am not exactly a fan of winter. The onslaught of cabin fever has already begun and there are several weeks left to winter. I am antsy – I just want to go on long walks! We buried my brother less than two months ago, perhaps that is why I am finding this particular winter more difficult than most. I have less patience for trivial matters, less patience too for small details which once seemed important.

My mother taught me that death is part of life. She also taught me that it’s okay to cry when you’re grieving someone you love. But as usual my tears are frozen deep inside. They are keeping my anger company.  Anger, I know, is simply part and parcel of the grieving process.  Grief, unfortunately, does not have a cut and dried timetable.  I wish it did. The problem this time round is that my brother did not simply die; he was killed by an impaired driver. That makes it harder to come to terms with his death.  Recently I took part in a conference call with the crown prosecutor who is handling the case. I know the year ahead will be filled with waiting for court dates and wrestling with the roller coaster of emotions that entails.

I am reaching deeper in an attempt to find some blessing or a positive message to tell myself. And this is it: winter gives me more time to sit and ruminate, time to reflect, and hopefully grow on a personal level.  I have no idea what this “lesson” is here to teach me, but I hope I will learn it well and become a better person through the process.


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