I’ve been busy all week working on my book and assorted other projects; the grief comes and goes.

It’s been almost five weeks, but I think actually that part of me is still in denial that my brother is GONE. But they say that, don’t they? That it takes a year of passing through the occasions and places of deeper connection, where the memories live – Christmas (ugh), his birthday in late March, visiting Toronto where I’d never go without seeing him, etcetera – before healing can really begin.

I think he’s hanging around. The other night, up at three, as seems to be my way, I went into the spare room and thought, Tim’s here. On the bedside table, for a long time now, since before he died, I’ve kept the Rumi book he gave me for my 28th birthday and so I read that for awhile, and there can’t be much that’s better for easing grief than Rumi.

Being with family helps too, and so I’m really happy that my mom will be here this weekend (and can only wish my sister could have made the trip as well). We’d made this plan quite awhile ago, when I first got an assignment to go to Churchill and asked her if she wanted to come. So, we’ll be boarding the train, cozying up in our sleeper cabins, and chugging north into the subarctic for a few days, including next Thursday when I’ll be too busy spotting polar bears (hopefully) to write my weekly post.

I’ll leave you, then, with this video, taken just a few days ago up in Churchill and good for soothing any troubled heart.