These are my own thoughts based on my own personal reality living here without my child. Trust me, I do not know the way so I am making no predictions for anyone based on my own personal two plus year nightmare. Sugar coating the loss of my child is impossible as my heart spits out this painful reality.
That's an easy, simple truth. It can't be politicized, analyzed or reduced to anything other than what it is: reality. My brother is dead because of a gun. You can lump him into a statistic. You can break down the circumstances. But at the end of the day, what can I really say that will call you to action?
Death. It is the unfortunate part of life. It's the natural progression that marks our last breath, our final tears. We don't like to think about it, this permanent elephant that has stomped its way into the room. As we grow older, so too shall the people we love, the ones we hold dear to our hearts.
Please give the gift of your time to that very special person in your life and please be mindfully present while doing so. I promise you at some point down the road, you'll look back with an incredible feeling that you too, had your own Christmas miracle reveal itself-- in a most magical, unexpected way.
There are those who scold us for our outpouring of grief in the wake of the Nov. 13 terrorist attacks on Paris. They try to make us feel guilty for not demonstrating the same grief over the slaughter in Beirut, Lebanon, just a day earlier, or the massacre in Kenya. Political correctness has no place in matters of the heart.