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Fifth Year Blues: The holiday season


November seventh stumbled over a cliff. A cruel photograph flaunted your hand in mine, your smile matching your Daddy’s smile. The house remained as silent as your laughter. Another unsung birthday. Another unlit candle.

Now, time drags its nails down a chalkboard as the shadow of Christmas looms. Snow blankets quivering shoulders. Ice breaks hearts into spikes of grief. A turkey huddles in the freezer and waits for a tasteless family dinner. Old presents, never wrapped, shiver in boxed cells of an attic prison.

Your absence blisters the heals of souls. We resent the numbing dose of time that salves the wound while we count tears. One for every blessing. Until then, I release the swell of your loss by scribbling words.

— Mommy

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