|25th of December, 2001|
|Christmas day is over.
Our metaphor of life and renewal winds down,
A victim of the very thing it stands in place of.
How strange that there were no presents for you
Or from you.
It was you who created our traditions,
From pieces gathered from here and there
Then brought together as you brought our family together.
We remembered the effect you had on some people,
How they were drawn to your vitality
Or some other quality we didn't see
Because we took it for granted. Or couldn't live with it.
Now that your are gone it leaves an emptiness
we can't identify.