Christmas used to be happy…but with my father gone for over a year now, and so many accompanying heartaches echoing in its aftermath, this holiday season isn’t much better than the previous disaster.
I remember happier times…so strong are those memories I can smell them…taste them. But Christmas, 21st century style, is just…wrong. That spark of child-like happiness — the glee — that has been with me every Christmas since I was knee-high…I’m afraid it might have vanished forever.
The old advice is that “time heals all wounds”…but it really doesn’t. Time is a bandage. Scar tissue forms, life seems to return to normal…but the hurt never goes away. It changes, it dulls…but it remains nevertheless. Like one of those old joints that ache in a cold wind. Christmas is the cold wind to people who have lost someone precious at this time of year.
We will try to celebrate as we usually do…my mother, my sister, her hubby, the in-laws…but it’s all tarnished. After another long year, you’d think karma would be a bit kinder…
