Click images for desktop size: "Jamaica Rain" by Jason Jackson The holidays are approaching.
My father died the Friday after Thanksgiving. My mother died one year later, the Friday after Thanksgiving.
My wife and son were shot December 10th while Christmas shopping.
Maybe its a flaw in me but I don't view the holidays as a sign post for tragedy.
I like them. I like them big and overt and loaded with crass commercialism bordering on lustful greed.
I like them small and intimate with the only gifts to exchange being big love.
I like being in crowds and I like being alone.
I still vividly recall being the only person in the theater on Thanksgiving Day to see “The Trial Of Billy Jack”. It was in Boston and I missed my connection to New Hampshire.
I remember being in Chicago, snowed in and broke Christmas Eve and getting a gig at the Musicians Union playing guitar in an R&B band on the Southside.

I remember Christmases at posh restaurants with 20 friends, over tipping because it was Christmas Day after all.
And I remember celebrating Christmas in the Desert with a 79 cent frozen turkey dinner and a little dog.
Big times, small times, people flying in and me flying out. Over decorating an Intensive Care unit at the hospital so my wife wouldn't wake up and feel forgotten and remember only the tragedy.
I remember walking the streets at Midnight Christmas Eve and waiting to see if a miracle happened as fondly as waking up at 4 AM when I was 5 hoping for a new bike.
I like the holidays, whatever happens will always be memorable.
I hope your holidays are pristine and shiny and worth wrapping up to recall in a year.

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