Dark and Cold

 The arctic blast frisks me rudely. I brace against the icy chill, numbed and shocked even though I knew the cold front was coming in.
 It reminds me of a personal cold front that moved in during warm weather and hasn't gone away. As the Christmas season unfolds around me, with the bells, songs, lights and laughter, a part of me cries in the dark, cold wind. My season is clouded with confusion and dismay. There is no warmth for me this Christmas.
 I had to leave the house again this afternoon.
 My oldest son saw me. "Where are you going, dad?"
 I didn't have an answer. "I'm not sure," I said.
 It's dark and it's cold and I'm still not sure where I'm going.
  I'm out in this misery, thinking of what I'd normally be doing on a Saturday night like this. I'd be sitting in front of a Christmas movie, my wife sitting next to me, her right leg drapped over my left one. One of our boys would be cuddling me on the other side. We'd spike our hot chocolate with homemade eggnog.
 TheChristmas tree lights would reflect in my wife's sparking blue eyes. But now those eyes have lost their sparkle for me.
 I'm still out in the cold and dark and I still don't know where I'm going.