These cold, damp December mornings remind me of the days in high school when Jerry Welch and I would get the urge to go find our family’s Christmas trees. On the first wet, rainy Saturday morning, he would call and say, “Let’s go!”. He would come get me (and my axe!) and head to Fred’s Grocery to get a Dr. Pepper and a bag of Dorito’s Cool Ranch chips then head to the woods. We usually ended up in East Mountain, or off the then-incomplete and unpopulated east loop.

 

The fields were marshy and soft, so we had to wear our tall rubber boots, and sometimes they weren’t tall enough. And it had to be raining, not really flooding, but enough to get soaked in the minutes it took to find and cut down a couple of trees. We got cold and wet and laughed at each other as we tried to cut, move and load the trees without getting covered with sap.

 

Each year on these melancholy days those memories come back. Sometimes I stand in the rain soaked in the remembering and let the drops attempt to wash away my sadness. Then I smile. I miss my friend, but I wouldn’t give up the memories.

 

If you are missing someone this year, just remember that the reason it hurts is because they had an impact on you. They contributed something to you. There is a void that can’t be filled by anyone or anything else. Rejoice in what you miss about them: love, companionship, joy, laughter, peace. Allow the tears to flow. Then smile because you had the chance to love and be loved by someone so much. Great hurt is caused by great love.