...it came out in the paper today... an inquest over my nephew. He died over 18 months ago, the same night our mum died. I recall coming home and then getting told. I went round and was able to comfort his daughter aged 12. The poor kid had lost her dad to a drug overdose, and had lived through a rape and a stabbing in that house. I put my arm around her as they bought his body out. I wasn't suposed to be there... my sister would not let us near her boys, let alone her grand-daughter. Reason? I don't know, but if she was like me- it was because she thought she could manage everything entirely on her own. The old me might have brandished this information like another big chunk of crisis and yet another qualifier to notch onto my v i c t i m belt. But I went down to the lake and wept this morning and thanked the powers that care and make things- that at least I had learned to grieve in a healthy way. Thanks for the share... DavidG