The bitterly cold wind crept beneath my coat, intertwining between every bit of clothing, and adding yet more coldness to my mood.
The sun was shining brightly, but that didn’t seem to matter.
As the youngest of four boys, I guess I expect to bury my brothers. But this was too soon. Trevor was too young and there were things we hadn’t properly dealt with. Things we hadn’t said.
Too late now.
My mind drifted back to happier times.
As children, we were inseparable. We went everywhere together. Did everything together.
Hours and hours playing football, cricket, tennis, board games… together.
We watched the same TV programs. Listened to the same music. But didn’t read the same books. Why was that, I wonder?
Thousands of miles travelled across the UK watching our beloved football team, West Bromwich Albion. We supported them through thick and thin, cheering them on, year after year. We froze on the terraces together. Got soaked on the terraces together. Jumped for joy on the terraces together!
It seemed as though we never disagreed about anything… though, of course, we did!
And then, without warning, without reason really…
All of that happiness and joy came to an abrupt and sudden end.
A family disagreement over something and nothing.
A split down the middle of the family.
Two stubborn young men who couldn’t see eye to eye.
And a parting of the ways.
Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. Before we realised it, we hadn’t talked to or seen each other for years.
Our paths crossed from time to time and I tried to talk to him, but he couldn’t forgive; couldn’t let go.
Now it really was time to let go. It was time to get back together. To talk over old times; good times; happy times. Too little and maybe too late, but better than nothing and something to cling onto. Something to remember.
And, as the coffin was lowered and I said my last goodbye, I remembered the good times we had together and the final words we spoke. Yes, we missed out on many years together, but we had so much to be thankful for.
I didn’t just bury my brother that day, I also buried a part of me.
And later that day, as I contemplated everything that had happened, I buried another part of me…
The part of me that let an argument fester for years and years…
The part of me that wouldn’t let go, no matter what the consequences.
That day, my ego, my pride, and any part of me that didn’t create peace, was also buried.
Living a Life of Purpose
21 Days of Transformation: A Journey to Dig Deep into Your Inner Thoughts
If that sounds like a journey you’d like to take with me…
If you feel the need to dig deep and find out things about yourself you never knew existed…
If you need clarity and purpose to be at the forefront of your life…
Let’s take this journey together.