This is the time of year when there should be peace on earth, goodwill towards men. A time when we hold warm thoughts of family and friends in our hearts. As I write this, though, I am filled with a profound sadness. This image…a cold, snowy night, a single streetlamp acting as a lonely beacon for the weary traveler trudging down a path, cold, harried, or perhaps sick. Or dying.

Holidays got hard. They didn’t used to be. Now? Now they are a rollercoaster of emotions. My birthday and The Only’s are tainted by the deaths of mothers–my MiL right before mine, my mother’s the day before The Only’s twenty-first. We lost my dad between Christmas and New Years; Lawyer Guy’s at Thanksgiving. My brother at Easter. I am hardly alone. Others–too many others–have lost loved ones when the rest of the world is celebrating.

Last night, the throaty growls of rumbling diesel engines and the throbbing flashes of red, white, and blue strobes woke us. Across the street, Christmas came to a wailing stop, in mimicry of sirens made silent by a blanket of grief. A mother gone in a blink as tears welled in the eyes of those she left behind to wonder why.

This afternoon, an old friend called. I could hear the tears in his voice as he asked, “Why?” I had no answer for him. I have asked the same question too many times, my voice as anguished as his for lack of an answer. He didn’t give me the details. I didn’t need them. I’d heard to calls go out in the last two days: a self-inflicted gunshot and a hanging in the park. What pain drives someone to such desperation? What terrible demon pushes a person to end a life at any time, but especially at this time of year? To loose a loved one to disease or accident is bad enough. To have a holiday haunted by the gossamer wisps of intentional goodbyes?

Why? A question too often asked when there are no answers. I had none for my friend, nor did he expect any. The true answer came in the sharing.

So I sit here in the semi-dark, the gloom broken only by the soft glow of my laptop screen. Misty-eyed, the letters swim hazily and my throat is tight with unshed tears. Love one another. Cling to the hope and the joy. And never let the memories fade.

This entry was posted on Monday, December 21st, 2009 at 4:00 AM and is filed under On Being a Writer. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.