The Cruelest Month

Today we woke to low hanging fog and spring break up conditions.  Too early for spring break up (for here), but climate change is not a myth, it is happening and here we are.

February has always been a difficult month for me.  It is usually the dead of winter conditions and people are sick - literally with cold/flu (or when I was a child diseases that we can now vaccinate against but couldn't then and death was a real spectre as children or old folk dealt with illness that their body could not protect them from) or virtually - sick of the cold, sick of the snow, sick of shoveling, sick of slip/sliding on icy or compact snow rutted streets.  The only saving grace was the visible returning of the sun - a promise that spring would come, maybe not today, or next week, but maybe, if we were lucky, in March, surely April!

February has become cruel in another way because that is the month my younger (and only) brother died, suddenly, unexpectedly, at work from a massive heart attack.

I have been thinking about him a lot lately, not sure why.  When Facebook reminded me this morning of the date, it kind of hit me like a ton of emotional bricks.

For most of adulthood we didn't see each other much because for many years he worked out of town for the railroad.  He would be gone for six weeks at a time and when he managed to get back to town it was only for a few days and he would be back to work again.

He had a quiet sense of humour, stood up to bullies, was a visionary who seemed able to inspire others to hop onto his 'train' of thought.  At his memorial a friend described Don as a catalyst.  For the last years of his life he poured all his time and energy into the local railway museum, which is where he died that cold February night, 12 years ago.

The museum contacted me the end of January.  I had donated a jacket I wove for him to their collection but it had been listed as long term loan.  I had intended it to be part of their permanent collection so I need to go in and sign the updated papers.  Maybe that is why he has been so much on my mind this month?

Anyway, the pain does go (mostly) away, the missing does not.

Iconic photo of the Royal Hudson (steam train) and jacket I wove from his design based on the photo.  I have been asked to get close up photos of the weave structure and will try to get better photos.  These were taken at his funeral service.

Don Holzworth 1956-2008