Left for the Living

Dear January,

Tomorrow is going to be a hard day.  Tomorrow I am going to a funeral.  For the father of my friends.  My friends who are the same age as my youngest sister.  I confess that I didn't really know him that well, but if my friends, his son and daughter, are anything to go by, he must have been an amazing man.  And, dear January, what makes it worse, is they've known this day was coming for almost a year.  Cancer. 

But you couldn't leave well enough alone, could you, January.  Because the day after tomorrow, is going to be even harder.

The day after tomorrow I go to another funeral.  For the father of one of my best friends, and father-in-law to my other best friend.  A man that I've known for almost 17 years.  While I can't really say that I know any of the parents of my friends, hearing the stories about and from him for over half my life, he was pretty amazing.  And, dear January, what makes it worse, nobody had any idea this was coming.  Stroke.

Within the last week I have watched the lives of two families taken apart.  And those left behind will spend the coming days, weeks, months, and years putting themselves and the families back together.  And those that are left will keep living.  Different lives maybe, but alive all the same.


Years and years ago, when André's grandfather Poppy (Patrick) was still with us, he visited a local army base at Trenton Ontario.  And came home with a cross stitch pattern kit for the cap badge for the Royal Canadian Corps of Signals, with whom he served in his youth. 

I finished it a few months later, and gave it right back to him, complete with custom frame by Andre.  And back it came to us when he passed away almost 2 years ago.  Looking at it every so often won't bring Poppy back, or even help to fill the gaping hole in the family left when he died, but it does remind me of him.  And if that's all I physically have from him, it is enough. 

The families of my friends have each other, like our family did when Poppy passed away.  All the pictures, stories, and memories are never ever enough.  But they are all that's left now. 

So, dear January, I would really appreciate it if you could pass through your last few days leaving the rest of my friends and loved ones' families intact.  You've taken more than your share this winter. 

In deference to you, I will go tomorrow, shake hands and say

Good curling

And the day after tomorrow, salute and say

Ready Aye Ready

And the day after that will be a new month. 

Don't let the door hit you on the way out.