Rachel was my younger sister, my best friend, my travel partner, and my confidant. When she died suddenly at 18 from a fentanyl overdose, my world fell apart. Rachel passed away on Feb. 2nd and wasn’t found until Feb. 5th. Everything about her death is haunting.
February has always been my least favourite month, but now I’ve come to truly dread it. I hate winter, but in 2019 the cold and isolation I felt didn’t stop at the melting of the snow. In learning to how to heal and move forward, counsellors recommended I begin writing letters to her. In speaking vulnerably and honestly, I could escape my year-long winter and fight for the rebirth of spring.
at least we’ll always have spring is the collection of letters. This book will also contain photography, poems, art, and prose. These pieces are very raw, and discuss grief, mental health, drug addiction, and abuse. Divided into sections of the seasons, this novel details my progression through the lowest period of my life toward healing and regrowth. This book documents my journey to spring.
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