A character in David Mitchell's Black Swan Green claims this about February: "It's not so much a month as a twenty-eight-day-long Monday morning." And now, this snippet of a month that often feels longer than any other is once again coming to an end.
Today is always a day when I'm a bit sad, as it's the date when my dad died, in 1990. The snapshot is one my son Jevon took and is from the last time he saw his grandpa.
In addition, this past month saw the deaths of two other men -- in some ways as different as any two people could be, yet they shared one thing in common. A love of the outdoors.
Pierre Rovtar was my local Green Party candidate. He ran both federally and provincially, and as you know, didn't win either time. Heck, you can bet it'll make the news when the first GP candidate wins a seat in this country. Pierre fought hard for a number of important issues and wrote wonderful letters to the local papers. He's left this wish for a legacy: He wants us to plant a tree in his memory. I haven't done it yet, but once it gets a little warmer, I will.
The other man is slightly more difficult to explain. I can only describe Jim as my former brother-in-law, even though I was never technically married to his brother, who is my ex. The photo I'm posting is awfully blurry, but it's the only one I could find where Jimmy wasn't holding a cigarette. In the end, I suspect those are what got him.
With both Pierre and Jimmy landing in heaven (or wherever it is any of us go when this life ends), I hope the two of them are able to head out for a walk in the bush and maybe do some fishing. I just wish I could listen in while they talk about politics, especially if they manage to get my dad in on the discussion. Who knows, global warming may suddenly get a whole lot more heated.