January 1, 2005
There was a time after the shock of the unnatural deaths of my mother and brother when I thought I would always dread January firsts. The date and even the year- 1990- are cruelly easy to remember so that at any time without a moments calculation I could say, "it has been 2 years, 3 months and 2 days since..." or something like that. But the crucible of loss is fickle and I was not left with the albatross of hating the specific day more or less than any other. Of course I have always recognized this sad anniversary and am careful to put aside time for some private ritual of remembrance, but I do the same on other days for other people I have lost. Strange too is my appreciation for what the deaths have done to me as a person, allowing me, I hope, to be a husband and now a father who, aware of what can be taken away, tries his best to love with an open heart.
That event fourteen years ago was one of those which divide time into "before" and "after", but what I could not foresee then were the other events that similarly divide time. Those events, whether they be something as large as the birth of a child or as small as some quiet realization, lift us past the burden of memory and into the realm of undiscovered country.
So I think what I'm trying to say is, it's a new year, let's try to make the best of it.