Sad Stories

December 26, 2007

Sad things are happening. For instance, yesterday was Christmas. For my family, Christmas morning consists of being awakened obnoxiously early by my little sister Ellen, then waiting for the parentals to get the cameras working. We open presents (in a very organized manner of course), we clean up, then it’s off to the grandparentals to do it all again and then carve the roast beast. This Christmas, when we arrived at the grandparentals, we encountered some gloomy relatives. Come to find out, my baby cousin Lydon (who is two years old) had recently had an accident where his finger was caught in a slamming door and subsequently cut off. Not cut. CUT OFF. My aunt and uncle are devastated and the baby’s hand is all wrapped up. It’s wrapped so much that he can’t even fit his hand through his shirt sleeves for heaven’s sake. On top of that, the doctor tried sewing his finger back on, but it didn’t take. It died. Poor baby Lydon.
The second sad story will pretty much only mean something to people who know my life story. But yesterday, my dad called to say hello to my siblings and me and during our conversation I found out that his wife had kicked him out of his house on Christmas Eve. My father spent Christmas alone in his office sleeping on the cold, hard ground. What’s even sadder is that the beast of a woman took him for everything he had (which was nothing to begin with) and now he literally has nothing. And to top it all off, my dad is in title insurance and the market is particularly horrible right now. All the agents in his office were laid off except for him and the company he works for took him off of salary and put him on commission only. This caused him to have to pick up a second job at JC Penny. My dad’s choices in the past have caused my family and I a lot of pain, but my heart still breaks for him. Nobody deserves that. Nobody deserves to be alone on Christmas.
I’m also sad because I keep realizing that this next year is going to be very different for me. People I love are coming home after long absences and then other people that I love are leaving. I hate saying goodbye when I’ve spent the last couple of years waiting to be able to say hello again.
Despite the sadness, I don’t feel depressed. I just feel a little helpless. I feel like I should be doing something to help the situations, but I am at a loss as to what that something could be. I have nothing to give to anyone else except my love and these people all already have that.
And another thing. One of the hardest things about love is that sometimes there are too many limitations put on it. Why should anyone ever be forced to suppress their love for someone else? I don’t care what the circumstances may be, love should never be forbidden.