In Glasgow, UK, a bin lorry crashed into unsuspecting shoppers yesterday, killing and injuring until it came to a halt.
For many people, Christmas time brings trauma. All the family of loved ones killed in accidents, or dying in some other way during this time must harbor memories that will not leave them.
I'm one of the people with sad memories. A movie I watched yesterday of a family reunited touched me so deeply that I cried for my lost family. I sobbed, longing for the past, regretting my loss, and asking myself if I had loved them enough. I know in my own mind that I, as a young mother, could not have done more. My whole being was centered on the welfare of my children and I lavished love on them, brought out the strengths in each of their personalities, and taught them well. Yet, I feel bereft because two died as adults and the other lives far away and barely contacts me. My grandchildren are spread around the world and I've had little contact with them over their lives.
I send my deepest sympathy to all the people who shun Christmas. The personalities of my loved-ones live on in my novels. For those of my fellow mourners who don't write, try to remember the good times instead of your loss.
Everyone else should appreciate the family with whom they share the celebration, ignore the squabbles, and bask in the closeness.