Three years ago

Three years ago today was a Friday. I remember because it was Friday the thirteenth. While I was never one to be superstitious, I began to re-evaluate my stance because of that day three years ago. It started like any other workday. I was in the middle of my first teaching year up north, and still lived in an apartment by Boot Lake with two other teachers. That winter was abnormally cold, I was told, and February lived up to its reputation of being the coldest month. I remember standing out on those side steps, waiting for my cab to come to take me to work, when I saw the most beautiful moon over the lake. It was a brilliant red. To this day, I have not seen the moon quite that colour again. “There was blood on the moon,” my roommate would later comment to me. After work, my roommate and I went for a night out at the Finto (my favourite restaurant in town, which had, unfortunately, closed about six months ago). That was when we heard the news of your death. Two police officers walked in, and the news rippled through the room.

I never really got to know you, but I do remember seeing you at the high school talent show, when you stood there at the back of the gym, swaying gently from side to side while the man you loved held you by the waist.

You died from a head-on collision with an RCMP vehicle on the Dempster, we were told. On the road you had habitually driven for years, on your way up to see your sweetheart for Valentine’s Day. Every time I drove out on that highway after that, I would think of you. I could say that your death had tainted the beauty of the wilderness – it’s true. But, the opposite is equally true. Somehow, after that day, the wilderness rang and echoed louder, more infinite.

That night, the northern lights came out with a fierceness I had never seen before, filling up half the sky with green. My heart ached from that juxtaposition of beauty and tragedy. Every time I see the northern lights now, I’m reminded that there are forces out there over which we have absolutely no control. Life is so mysterious, so miraculous. I can’t begin to understand the why of it all, but sometimes, it’s enough to take it all in. The least we can do is love, and be the best person we can be to those who matter to us.

I’ve always hated the hype of Valentine’s Day. Now, since that day three years ago, it has filled me with a mix of turmoil and inner peace. I choose to concentrate on the wonder, the brightness of love and peace.

Goodnight, world. Goodnight, moon and aurora above. And goodnight to you.