The Darkest Day

I spent this winter solstice at the funeral of a beloved friend. 

She was full of light and energy, and it is so very dark here right now — as if the sun were suddenly snuffed instead of just warming the other side of the planet for a bit. 

I lack.

I lack words to express this loss.

I lack all resources to stand up against the waves of sadness that have really only just begun to crash around me.

I lack any ability to cypher out the ledger sheet of this year, which has been filled with more loss — in the world at large and in my corner of it — than I can tally. 

This photo gets at something I haven't been able to say, though. This is MaryClaire, walking away, holding Jonas' tiny hand and no doubt teaching him something about that big, beautiful world around them. He's only five there, and that's also gone, replaced by something study and clever but less soft and trusting. 

And, now, much more sad. 

So there they are, my friend and my boy's boyhood, just out of reach, leaving us behind to watch them go.