A death in the family

A relative dies during the opening few days of January.

Although terminally ill, their death is no less shocking or devastating.

You can see the effect it is having on your loved ones but feel powerless to do anything. 

You're surprised by your own reaction to the death and the tears you're shedding for someone who, though you were close to as a child, had been something of a ghost-like presence in your life over the past few years.

The long sighs, the staring off into the distance. The sadness etched on a sibling's face.

That he died alone, with very little to leave the world, adds an extra layer of sadness.

That the confusion he left behind and its lingering impact leaves you frustrated you can't do more.

Being reunited with family who these days you only see at funerals.  They looker older; shorter; greyer; have less hair; are thinner; are fatter.

The coffin and a single flower arrangement. 

The regression to your childhood as you stand in your relative's house and remember all the family gatherings and the laughs and smiles that you've enjoyed in this room.

You promise to keep in touch, to plan a visit but acknowledge that probably the next time you all meet will be at the next funeral. You look around and wonder who, of those in the room, it might be.

Your heart breaks a little more.