The Last Noel

The Last Noel 

 

(In Memory of Cheri Denise)

 

Not that she died,

But that her angels

Vanished in the fray,

 

While she yet had

Ambition and the will

To run a cruel gauntlet

 

In her way

 

You must have grinned

When you deceived my child

 

With naught but

Gum and poison

For a mind!

 

And maybe it was something done in jest

To tap a sense of humor in your kind

 

But even fiendish wit has flaws galore,

For why entice an innocent to flame,

When little is the merit of a trick

That brings upon the trickster

 

Only shame!

 

So, jest ‘tis not, nor joke - but villainy,

That she fell in her rawness to a blight

Without a reason proffered for her pains

In passing but from darkness into night.

 

 

Yet, how the snowflakes fairly swell,

Floating o’er our last Noel!

 

They are lighter than the air,

 Glowing here and gleaming there

 

They are many, none the same;

They are heaven’s ice aflame

 

They are angels, all in white �"

Some are spirit, all are light.

 

-U-

 

I do not think that happiness is a realistic goal for me. �" for anyone really. I have experienced all of life’s stages and none of them involved much happiness. I was happy (almost insanely so) for a few moments when it snowed on Christmas Eve last year; and I was on top of the world for hours yesterday when I received some good news about my health. But neither of those feelings lasted, nor did any other happiness I have ever enjoyed.  

 

Maybe happiness is just a gleam we follow or a memory we embellish in order to avoid the discomfort of inexplicable regret.

 

So, I think about the death of my niece, and how she had her whole life sought to be happy, even though she was a chronic alcoholic who experienced the miseries of bi-polar disorder and the progressively awful symptoms of cirrhosis of the liver.  Did she know moments of happiness?

 

Maybe she was like me, one who is willing, even eager to engage an existential challenge - A tragic yet beautiful soul who loves to try and seems to derive a sense of purpose from merely making the effort. It is almost as if we are hopelessly in love with a difficult teacher. We may be among the worst of students, but we are determined to be that teacher’s pet - And we are, in madness, willing to sacrifice anything to that end.