The Christmas That Wouldn't Let Go

   When my son was nine, Christmas took hold of him and would not let go.  He had had a great Christmas, and maybe that was the problem because when all that was left of it were cracked walnut shells we thought his heart would break, too.

   Days were kind to him but at night in bed he cried.  I thought maybe music therapy was the answer but "Silent Night" only triggered more nostalgia.  The opposite end of the spectrum failed miserably, too.  Neither "Frosty the Snowman" nor "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" turned his gloom to glee.

   Next, I tried decorations.  All the remnants of the holiday had been put away in an out-of-sight-out-of-mind attempt; now we put them up again.  Tons of silver tinsel hung like vines in a jungle over his head in bed but they seemed only to take root on the hold he had on the holiday.

   Once again, down came the reminders.  Hopefully a clean slate would do the trick, but this did not work either.  "Get over it" was a last resort suggestion I knew would fail (and was cruel), while "Cheer up, it's only ten and a half short months until Christmas comes around again!" fell on a deaf soul.


   So it seemed his soul was just slow and time was the only prescription left as it often is in cases like this.  And after a few more sad weeks he was looking up and forward to Easter.