My Brother's Blue Jay

 

My brother John fed the birds outside his home in Ste. Anne, Manitoba. He loved to watch them come to the feeders outside the window. So did his seven granchildren. This jay is snatching peanuts in shells that we put out in John's absence. My brother died on February 15th, 2012. I call this photo John's Blue Jay, not only because he loved birds, but also because watching them when I was there this past weekend for his funeral evoked many stories about my brother. I saw him only every year or so as he did not fly and Winnipeg wasn't on my agenda too often unless there was a wedding of one of his children or a birth or some other occasion. I was glad that my sister, her husband and I were able to visit our brother in January. This last trip was to go to his funeral service where it was apparent that this good man and his loving family have many friends. I said a few words about my brother after his son, Jim, spoke so movingly. A few stories about the early days before any of them knew John. I was two when he was born, I don't remember a time when he wasn't there. It is very hard to accept that he isn't any longer. Such a colossal loss. 

My brother was not a complicated man. He was a man of few words and quite quiet. But it did not take long to know that he was a kind man, filled with love. He will be sorely missed.

Storm on the Horizon.

I was fortunate enough to get an Aeroplan ticket to go to Winnipeg tomorrow for my brother's funeral on Saturday. Will I get there? At the moment, there are Travel Alerts for Toronto with snow predicted to begin at midnight. There will be, apparently, 5 to 10 cm. overnight. I know the drill. Chaos on the highway, chaos at the airport. Still, I am hopeful. There was also snow predicted when I went there a month ago to visit my brother, increasingly worried about him as he spent weeks and months in hospital. It was a good visit so if my flight is cancelled tomorrow, I know I saw him when he was still with us.

 

Life and Loss.

My brother died in hospital in Winnipeg on February 15, 2012. Everything shifts. The brother who was always there, from the time I was two, is gone. He was such a gentle man and as a child what one heard so often was what a nice boy he was. A nice boy. Well, he had his moments, ganging up with my younger sister to fight with me. What did we all fight about? It's hard to know now, so long ago were those days. We also played together and either protected or admired each other.

The paths of children raised in northern mining towns often diverged as we grew up and went away to school, to work and/or to get married. Very few returned to live in the place where we shared our childhood. Though many of us have visited and remarked on how things have changed. The underground mine that has become an open pit. The houses that have been torn down. How the town thrives through an economic downturn because of the discovery of more gold..

If someone has a brother or sister there, they are just as likely to have another in some other part of Canada. Or elsewhere. Thus I happen to have a sister in Vancouver and until yesterday had a brother in Winnipeg. Stretched out across the continent from where I live in Toronto. Nonetheless we three siblings have grown closer again in these later years when we could travel more and had also the benefit of Skype, email, Facebook, etc.

It is a sad day. Such a nice boy, yes. Such a gentle and loving man.