One of my children told me recently that every celebration and holiday over the past few years had a shadow over it.
But I can’t help it.
I wish I could find a light bright enough to drive out the shadows.
But there isn’t.
I’m trying. Really, truly trying. I want to be able to join in without reserve, without that still small voice whispering, “This won’t last”, in my head.
Because that’s really the shadow, isn’t it?
Not *just* the one who is missing, the incomplete family photo, the empty chair at the dinner table-but the fact that I know, know, know what I didn’t used to know.
I know life is fleeting and death can come for anyone at any time.
I wish I could forget that lesson.
Because that is what casts the longest shadow.