There’s a flurry of both snow and rain falling hapzardly from the overcast sky just outside my window, both fighting for dominance. I think we’re in for a slushy Christmas.

Nearing the end of December and the end of the year, I have a good couple of things on my mind, some of them heavy, some of them less so. Unfortunately, as I write this, I remain a little affected... some friends I’ve spoken to about this before, but I don’t think I've mentioned it here on FA yet... since six months ago, we learned that my mother’s boyfriend of almost ten years, Claude, had been given a terminal diagnosis regarding the cancer he’d been fighting. He was given roughly a year, and our hopes were that he would make it until at least Christmas this year.

It anguishes me to say that that wasn't how things turned out.

He left us early Saturday afternoon. While I’ve dealt with death before, this was my first time coping with a situation where someone I knew and was close to was GOING to die, and it was my first time I had ever been in the same room with someone so shortly after they'd died. Even though we knew this was coming, it still manages to hit you just as hard.

This experience, though, was several firsts for me, for better and for worse. I saw strength within my mother that I don’t think I’d ever seen before as she wiped away the tears in her eyes and, rather than letting herself get overwhelmed with the loss, chose to celebrate the memories, holding his hand and recalling stories of the crazy stuff they’d done together over the past nine years. It was also the first time I had ever had such hands-on experience with the death of family member, the first time I had ever been in the same room as a body, and, having previously wondered how I would react to either, I can say that it was better and worse than I was expecting. It’s unsettling looking at those sheets covering a person and not seeing them rise and fall slightly with each breath, as well as seeing the life and the colour drain from someone you knew so well, but quite honestly, I think just knowing that he was no longer in pain helped make the experience bearable. That, and seeing mom handle it so well helped me to stay strong as well.

Much as the experience is still fresh in my mind, though, I don’t want it to cast too heavy a cloud over the holiday season, since Claude wouldn’t want that. Heck, knowing him, it would be honouring his memory to have the kind of celebration that was heavy on cheer, celebrations, and happy drunkeness. To be quite honest, the last couple of Christmases, I’d felt a pretty heavy sentiment of “Humbug!” lurking in my spirits when I had far, FAR less of a good reason for it than I do now, and... yet somehow, this experience really makes me WANT to make this a good Christmas. For me, and for my loved ones. I really want to make this a good one for my mom. My dad. My friends. Even my brother, who managed to break through his own wall of cynicism and unsociable indifference to be a kind, emotionally supportive person when it was truly needed of him.

I’ve got a lot on my plate... settling Claude’s affairs, the funeral, as well as Christmas preparations and the gusto required to make them really have some proverbial “OOMPH” this year are all coming in short order, and going to eat up a good bit of my time, but I’m feeling motivated. It’s going to be a busy week or two, so I might be scarcely around here in the immediate future, but rest assured, I’m also going to have a little something for y’all when the time comes, too. ;)

To all of you, I hope your own holiday crunch time, however it manifests itself in your area and under your religion, is a fruitful and gratifying one, and that you all get the chance to make it count for someone that matters to you... and I hope someone makes it count for you, too.

Take care, everyone, stay safe, and thanks for listening. Cheers!