I Wish I Had A River

I'm not sure what it is about this time of year that heralds grief. Hey, end of November into December, I'm asking you: What gives? Does the Universe shift from one extreme to the other just because it can? Lately, it's been hard to keep track of all the cruelty, the shootings, the fires, the heartbreaking goodbyes. And just like that, it's coming on Hanukkah and Christmas and even with the good things and reasons to rejoice, some of us wish we had a river we could skate away on. I woke up yesterday, ready to greet the day with my usual blend of kvetchiness and gratitude, only to learn that the daughter of dear friends had died in a car accident. Only 19, a bright and beautiful gift to everyone lucky enough to know her. I can't make any sense of this, or any of the other shocks life throws our way. All I can do is send my love and deepest condolences. I can say Kaddish. I can say this Jewish prayer: "As long as we live, they too will live; for they are now a part of us; as we remember them." And I can do one more thing. I can listen to Joni Mitchell's "River."