I know what you’re thinking, that we cannot “reflect” on events that haven’t yet occurred, as the term applies to the past.

I’ll make a stab at dispelling that notion.

Soon it will be three years since I experienced the worst day of my life with the passing of my bride after a savage bout with glioblastoma, aka cancer of the brain. I miss Kathy Anne every day. We were married for 51 years and one doesn’t lose a life partner without considerable pain.

Christmas was her favorite holiday. My wife would tear through the house like the proverbial Tasmanian Devil. She would deck the digs with boughs of holly, depictions of Santa and Rudy the Reindeer … along with Nativity Scenes depicting the birth of Jesus Christ, which is the real reason Christians celebrate the holiday. And every year she would tell me, “I am not very good at decorating,” which of course demonstrated a degree of false modesty.

I’ve been looking forward to this holiday. I am not the decorator that my bride was, but my modest North Texas home is full of love not just for the memories we shared, but for the family I will see very soon on Christmas.

We will laugh and carry on. We’ll enjoy the holiday fully. It’s all part of the journey I have undertaken since losing my bride.

I am declaring that my journey is complete. I cannot guarantee that I’ll never shed a tear. Indeed, I tell fellow widowers that they, too, likely will feel a sadness that will sneak up on them. Don’t fight it, I tell them.

I’m done fighting my own feelings. I intend to enjoy this season from this one forward.

Merry Christmas!