Death in December

It’s a good thing I’m an optimist by nature, else December would be a really tough time of the year for me.

65 years ago, on December 7th, our country was plunged into WWII as a direct result of the sneak attack on Pearl Harbor. While I wasn’t around back then, the first 10-15 years of my life were colored by the 2nd world war. The TV shows of the of the mid to late sixties, the games we played, the books I read, were all viewed through the lens of the largest war the world has known to date. Even the tensions over Vietnam were colored in part by the differing expectations of two generations; one who had fought to preserve our way of life, and one who didn’t see Vietnam as anything more than an optional war.

26 years ago, on December 8th, the voice of a generation was shot down in the prime of his life. John Lennon’s music is timeless, and it’s only with sadness that we consider what great contributions he would have made over the past quarter-century.

19 years ago, also on December 8th, one of my best friends was killed. Milton was very misunderstood; I only wish I had the insights of my present age back then; maybe I could have done more to ease his worried mind.

And just 4 years ago, on December 9th, my mom left this world entirely too early. I still miss her very much; mere words are inadequate.

Such a long long time to be gone and a short time to be there.