Learning to Breathe
My life was abruptly altered. It started in June 2014, when, at the end of the month, my father died. roughly three and a half years after I had lost my brother to cancer. My sister and I hastily arranged both their funerals, with the greatly appreciated assistance of our cousin, a retired Anglican priest. My brother was only a bit older than I am now when he died. But my father was old - nearly 98 - and so, while unexpected, his passing was not unanticipated. My emotions around his death were conflicted. I had only visited occasionally in the last 15 years or so because my family and I lived about 3000 km from my parents, who never traveled. Work, budget, and selfish lack of interest on my part all contributed to reduced visits. We were not distant from each other, but we weren't close, either. We never had easy conversation. We never really "got" each other, even though we understood each other reasonably well. My mother's passing, in 1998, had had a more direct