The Sadness of December 8

Earlier this year, I posted a meme on Facebook, asking people to recall the first news story they could remember. I had always claimed that John Lennon's murder was the first story I could recall, but that ended up not being quite right.

What I recalled was how Lennon's killing pushed the other big stories of the day off the front pages. No less a figure than Walter Cronkite shared my observation. He led his CBS Evening News broadcast the following night with this : "The death of a man who sang and played the guitar overshadows the news from Poland, Iran, and Washington tonight.".  If the most trusted man in America was having trouble wrapping his head around this, how could I, a mere 7 year old?

As time wore on, and I got more into the music, and learned about what life was like before and after the sixties, I realized just how big a deal the events of December 8, 1980 were. Every year on that date, I would read the stories, like Jimmy Breslin's famous column from that night's Daily News, and listen to the clip of Howard Cosell breaking the news to his Monday Night Football audience. Every year I spent at least a small part of that day remembering what had happened, wondering about what might have been. Would there have been a reunion? More new albums? Concerts? The thoughts of what might have been made December 8, even for a little bit, a day of of sadness.

Until December 8, 2007.

I was already awake very early that Saturday morning, though I had been out late the night before with Tara and my in-laws. Our phone rang in the apartment, and I answered it quickly. It was my Mom, letting us know that my sister had just had her baby.  Kris hadn't been due till February so naturally there was lots of concern. "Look", Mom said obviously hearing my worry, "You're an uncle now. You have a niece, Rebecca. That's what we need to focus on."  Tara would pretty much repeat the same thing to me. Focus on the positive.

Sure enough, Becky pulled through. She came home in February and continued to grow and soon enough, we were celebrating her first birthday.

December 8 was now a happy day, a day to celebrate. A happy time. Mom's birthday is two days later, Christmas right around the corner.

And we had some great parties too. There were the big ones out, but also ones where it was just the family. Either way watching her grow up, along with Timmy and later Rachel was pure joy.

And now?

Well, my father put it beautifully over the summer, we were lucky to have these 10 years. We'll have those 10 December 8th's to look back on. Eventually, we may smile a bit when we think of them.

We'll gather together this year and try our best to focus on those good memories.  It won't be easy, shoot it might be close to impossible. But that's what we aim for.

I just know that from now on, December 8 will go back to being a day of thinking about what's missing, a day of emptiness, of what might have been.

Just a day of sadness.