I’ve felt loss at Christmas:
my grandmother, Dave’s parents
my mother, and now Dave.
I could be happy but joy? seldom.
I could be happy to be with family,
Happy the Christmas blogs were ready,
Happy we made it home safely
After driving through an ice storm,
But not joy.
I struggled through Christmas parties
And even large family gatherings.
Putting on my smiling face,
Tryiing to capture others’ joy
with hugs.
But I couldn’t find Joy.
I struggled trying to decorate for Christmas.
First the Nativity: Dad made the manger;
Mom made the ceramic figures.
Next, came Christmas cards,
Writing humorous letters.
Trying to find Joy.
I bought gifts for everyone,
First, going into crowds,
standing in lines at the stores
Then, ordering by catalgue
But, finally giving up and
writing checks
Singing Christmas carols in a choir,
Watching faces light up upon
Unwrapping gifts,
Sitting in a chair in the library,
Watching the fireplace by the ight of a tree,
Still no Joy.
Hanging our two Christmas stockings
A cherished gift from Mom.
I cried.
Maybe joy is asking too much.
An unattainable goal,
An emotion of childhood.
If there’s no Joy,
What is there?
I’m surrounded by Love and
I can Hope that the new year will
Bring me Peace.
But Joy is a lonely pink candle
Waiting to be lit.

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