In A Time

The Vince Guaraldi Trio version of Christmas Time Is Here once made me shed tears of sorrow when hearing it.

I lost my grandfather in December of 2000. He was the man who I looked at as my true father. It was tough watching him slowly wither during that winter. While being sad because of grandmother’s recent passing, as well as watching grandpa suffer from her death just a few months prior, the whole Christmas vibe was far from peaceful that year.

The Christmas season for many years after that had a way of bringing on the seasonal depression I was accustomed to. The empty trees void of leaves always seemed to be a reminder of despondency, within me and without. I could easily be captivated by the grey and dreary that often accompanied the outdoors. In those days, I loathed. Winter was a daily drag. Adding the deaths of my two favorite people in the whole world just made the grey a little more nondescript.

I just came from my mothers house, which is actually the same house my grandparents lived in for decades, up until their death. Their lives are so far removed from everything in the house these days. It is just a nicotine-stained box of depression now. The locks that I changed for my mother on the house are a bit different than the ones she had. That little bit of change, so minor, was a drastic bother for her. She is in her late sixties and getting a divorce soon. Her estranged husband seems to think he can still come and go if he wants, but he has been abroad for the last two or three years. She had him removed by a Sheriff the other day. So, the locks were changed for her peace of mind. While there, I felt the same depressive energy I used to often feel. My grey isn’t as hers anymore. We always had that in common. I love my mother, but the emotions I see in her these days, sadly, give me incentive to not carry on like her.

I left and received a phone call from her. I had to again explain the different locking mechanism within her new doorknobs. She again reiterated the pain of the new locks. All things seem to keep her down anymore. Seeing it all happening in her depression brings back a lot of memories of my own states of the same.

I walked into the coffee shop and heard the song playing just a little while ago. It brought grandma and grandpa to my mind. I didn’t cry. I didn’t mourn or drift away from the good feeling I’ve had throughout the day. Quite the opposite. I only felt the empathy and sympathy I have for others who are hurting, for I know just how it feels. God, do I know how it feels.

The night is here—the grey turned to black. For now, the dark is not depriving me of the stillness and peace within. But I’m never complacent, for I know what sudden and gradual lamentation can bring.

2 thoughts on “In A Time

  1. Music is interesting like that. When my first son was born, which was in December, we were feeling quite festive so we started playing that entire album and left it playing through the night while we were in the hospital. I love that style of jazz music, so we didn’t stop playing it. Now, 10 years later, we have that playing as our bedtime music every night, all year. It’s such a strange thing, but every time I hear it, I feel peace. Music is amazing in that it can bring different emotions to different people depending on what was happening when they heard it. Merry Christmas DW.

    Liked by 1 person

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