The Days After Christmas

 The Days After Christmas

As the tintinnabulation of frosty sleigh bells grows fainter, and the warm, feral odor of sweating reindeer diminishes in the new year breeze, an emptiness and sense of loss not easily assuaged seeps into the day. Gone is the joyful, robust chatter and laughter of family and friends gathered around a table straining under the weight of too much food and drink . . . because it’s only once a year.

There are poignant pauses as each ornament is removed from the tree, or from the other places they have decorated and brought a certain comfort to the season. Such a bitter sweetness to all of this prevails. Memories flutter into consciousness as each object is wrapped yet again for its eleven month nap. Memories, some poignant and difficult to manage, stretch back into the blur of fog generated by the distance that surrounds and separates us from almost everything, and everyone not now. Poorly focused snapshots of times almost forgotten tease us into tears.

And then, I think of the coming year; of family and friends, of unlimited possibilities, and realize: life is good.