Ad Astra Per Aspera [2] - Band of Brothers

63 | the winters' cold

" We're all a little broken, but that's what life's for; putting our pieces back together."

- Unknown

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Grand Rapids - January 26th, 1946

It was snowing again, Lizzie could sense it from the moment she awoke and felt the familiar chill rise up her entire body.

It triggered the chain reaction of memories, following from Bastogne, her sickness, and her inevitable fever that was persistent in remaining with her through that time.

Lizzie's eyes stared at the ceiling, illuminated with a small bit of light - from the new lamp her mother had gotten her after Lizzie had accidentally broken the other one from her most recent breakdown.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Lizzie remembered the horror on her parents faces when they saw just exactly what the noise they'd heard from downstairs was only to come up and see their daughter in tears, barely able to hold herself together as a few glass shards covered the ground, blood on her fingertips and the lamp sprawled across the ground.

Opening her eyes again, Lizzie forced herself to sit up, even though her body wished to remain stuck to the bed sheets and never move again.

Sitting up, her eyes carried her to the window that was beside her bed and leaned forward a bit. The snow was falling fairly hard and collecting up and about the ground, as well as the sidewalks and the streets and the overhanging trees of the forested neighborhood. Lizzie could see the neighbors kids in the yard, giggling and squealing as they threw snowballs at each other and paraded around like the innocent souls they were. She sighed softly to herself and slowly turned to slide off the bed.

It was Saturday - it meant that her father and mother would both be home, no work today, which meant facing them again - having to see her parents look at their messed up daughter, turned young woman to war child torn by the heartache the war offered.

It also meant another letter from Floyd - she practically knew by now which days letters were sent by her friends like it were a routine.

Hazel and Joe's were Sundays, Smokey's were Mondays with Alton's, Shifty's came on Tuesdays with Don and Gene on Wednesdays, Joe Toye was Thursdays with Catherine and George on Fridays - and sometimes there'd be a letter from Lip or Winters in the mix or sometimes even Bill.

But today would be Floyd's letter.

Lizzie pulled one of the cardigans on around herself, her face numbly set staring forward as she took to leaving the cold room behind and moving towards the staircase which was still covered in cedar garland that her mother used for the winter time. It would have candles and lights at Christmas, but now was dull wrapped around the wooden railings.