ALWAYS BEGINNING 5

I don’t even know how to say it. Must I be technical before the computer case is even removed? Can diagnosis be accomplished from the lack of activity on my monitor? If the heart stops beating must I give the cardiac description?

Or may I simplistically wail in anguish, “It’s dead!”

This December I have mourned dear friends who died this year. I grieve with friends who have lost family members too early.

To write of the death of my computer is hardly of the same seriousness. But the last week has been traumatic and continues to be frantically upsetting as I search for saved files and documents, research noted from many thick books I don’t want to re-read.

The memorial service for a dear friend was held in November. Memories of his emails and humor cause me to smile. His dog was an effervescent, shaggy sheep dog and they were not dissimilar. (It must be said that our friend's mind was sharper.)

Another friend is also gone but his life and relationship pokes hard edged into our memories. He was self-serving and often abusive. Enough said.

I remember the year my Uncle’s 5 & 10 store burned to the ground. The pain in my abdomen was similar to losing a beloved family member.

December is a month of remembering people and what we have lost. Our task is to sort through the memories, our shared experiences, conversations as well as words we never said.

As we remember clear eyed, we see what we wish to emulate and the characteristics we resented and need to leave behind. 

Part of the burden of loss is that we must deliberately build a new normal. A friend bemoaned her teenage son's behavior. The important question was, “is he dead?” If he isn’t she can seek guidance being the unconditional loving mother he wished he had. When we change, others change in order to regain their balance. As long as we are in the land of the living, we consider circumstances and choose a new beginning each day. 

And what person shall I become in the new year?