"Emma died today."

Text from Chris.

I sit at my desk, tears streaking down my face. Silent. My heart squeezed in sharply, like a fist on a blood pressure cuff bulb.

I type in various responses. Delete them all. What do you say when a small child dies? I will always remember her grin, her spinning around and climbing Chris as if he were a tree. Her easy love.

Snow is piled high still. Some days of thaw, alternating with dumps of dense, wet snow.

I move into a semi-private office a the co-working space, invited to share a room with a city councillor and a biologist. Realizing that I rent my own office space, and that I have an office with a door.

I travel to and from Kamloops, packing my days in town with meetings and coffee dates. Lifting weights at night in the hotel gym. Eating chocolate in the king size bed.

Work rolls in. Piles up. I say yes to too many things.

I wake up happy.

We put an offer in on a house. A one hundred and eight year old house. The offer is accepted.

We go to the archives and look up who built the house in the property tax records. Huge tomes of hand written records. It was co-owned by the bank manager and a carpenter. The brains and the brawn. Probably rented from Day 1.

I join the community band. Dust off my flute. Practicing scales and learning show tunes, jazz standards. The conductor is flustered around me. Short furry hair fills up the space from the collar of his shirt to his neck line. My keys are sticky, but the nearest instrument repairman is a three hour drive south.

I test out a ketogenic diet. My former low fat vegetarian self in disbelief at my meals. But feeling so great in my brain, clear and bright, anxiety lifted. Blood sugar leveling out, not ruled by meal times.

Friends visit. We go skiing at the hill. The rhythm of laps of blue groomers, the whir of corduroy snow, and the swing of the chair. The slapping sound of the chair cables on the sets of wheels on the towers.

Did you hear that Chris is dating a girl from Christian Mingle?

Daniel's little sister announcing her pregnancy.

Emma died today.