February Freeze

Wind howls from the north. It is so cold within seconds it penetrates the bottom of my feet through my boots. The frozen wood cracks as i walk across the deck. I am alone and the only light out here is from the reflection of the snow covered ground. I start to shiver uncontrollably. February is always the hardest month for me and often i am unaware as to why, but on this night it stops me dead in my tracks as my body recalls a time so long ago. I am three. I am walking briskly with my father and my brother as he clenches tightly to our hands.We move swiftly through the side streets making our way  to my aunt's house. The only light is from the occasional street light that fades as we pass underneath it. Our long shadows  vanish out of the lights reach. I was three when my mother died, and although i was unaware of what that meant then, somewhere in me  the loss and the pain lives  rising up as though it just happened on this cold February night. As i make my way through the  snow, the tears freeze on my face just like they did that night on my fathers face February 8th 1967. I am reminded to remember this grief lives in me.