Day After Christmas
A Lament
The day after Christmas haunts with potential.
It teases:Â Next year will be better.
It lies:Â If only you had gotten what you really wanted...
Crumpled paper and candy wrappers litter our confettied floor.
The living room looks like a retired circus.
By mid-day, house is clean again, sterile.
The tree, still up, now lacks luster. Family has come and gone.
But we are still here, with our trinkets,
and each other.
Was it the best day of the year
or the worst?Â
Think back to a day now unapproachable,
one where you sang and danced, when you drank and wished
for more.
You feasted and napped, and found no rest.
You waited for morning.
Was this how shepherds felt
after angel songs ceased?
Were those three kings disappointed,
as kings often are with what they find?
And were you let down by another faded year,
wondering if you had the strength for what comes next?
2024 was my phoenix year. My mom died, I finished throat cancer radiation, my sister & sister-in-law also finished cancer treatments, I quit my job of 30 years. However, my mom no longer suffers from Alzheimer's, all three of us with cancer are now cancer free, I started a new job that respects me an makes me feel valued, people still by my self-published book after 8 years and 2025 will be the best year ever. Hope you have a happy new year Jeff!
I want to loiter in the retired circus with you and sip on yesterday's hot toddy, which is still lukewarm in my Yeti, while watching the kids play with their drones or whatever they get these days.