Hard to believe New Year’s Eve was only seven days ago. Sure felt like such a long week. Going back to work. Packing up holiday decorations. Tossing out the eggnog and leftover turkey.
Seven days ago we were still enjoying my daughter’s visit, although she planned to celebrate that night with her Florida friends before flying home on New Year’s Day. All made it home safely, by the way.
Like a sip of champagne, the holidays quickly bubbled away and we all went back to our pre-holiday, routine lives.
Fourteen days ago on Christmas Eve, a family my family knows received heart-stopping news about their 19-year-old son . As they rushed to the hospital, they found out that he was still alive, but the prognosis was grim. The young man–still in a coma–did not improve. I don’t know how his mother found the strength to breathe, to eat, to somehow convince herself that this nightmare was unfolding in real time.
Now only seven days into the New Year, this family is saying goodbye to a beloved son.
Their holidays will be wreathed in heartache, perhaps forever. No Happy New Year, no Merry Christmas.
So on this seventh night of the new year, all I can do is pray for them.