Into the Valley of the Shadow of January
- Thomas Witherspoon
- 6 days ago
- 3 min read
I used to LOVE the month of January.
After all, I was born in January! January 6, 1968, to be precise. Yes, that means I’m old, but it also means that I’m a Christmas Baby! And not just a Christmas Baby, but an Epiphany Baby!
That’s right, Christians! I was born on the day that the Wise Men finally got to Jerusalem to check out Baby Jesus. I’m a “Twelfth Night” baby, baby!
(Side Note 1: “Twelfth Night” is one of my favorite Shakespeare comedies. It’s such a romp!)
So, why don’t I love January now? I mean, my birthday didn’t move. It’s still the sixth day of the month. I should still celebrate it, right?
Well, let’s just say that other events have eclipsed the month.
Today, January 14, is the day that my Mother passed away after a long struggle with lung cancer. Since I’m posting this in 2026 that makes today the 25th anniversary of her death. I may not be mourning her loss as hard as I did five or ten or twenty years ago, but I still miss her very much. I miss sharing my life with her and her relentless humor in commenting on the world.
(Side note 2: If you are familiar of the “ball in the box” metaphor about grief, I tend to visualize grief for my Mother as a tennis ball inside of a standard size living room. Most of the time, I don’t feel grief at all. But when the ball hits the wall, boy, does it hurt!)
Tomorrow, January 15, is the day that my dog, Charlie, passed away from natural causes (i.e., just getting old). He passed away in 2020, just before the pandemic dropped all over the world and many more people passed away. I suppose that the loss of a single dog is a small thing when contrasting it with the hundreds of thousands of deaths that followed, but I would be lying if I said that I’m over his loss. I suppose I might shed a tear or two tomorrow, but maybe not. I was brought to tears last week over a random picture of him that popped up in my social media feed. Dogs, you know?
(Side note 3: Charlie was my first dog. I think I’m almost ready to adopt my second one.)
Next Tuesday, January 20, is the day that my Father passed away. His loss was quite unexpected: he suffered a traumatic brain injury resulting from a bad fall he took three days before. He was in pretty good health for a septuagenarian until that fall, and then he slid downhill very quickly. Thank goodness he prepared a will and medical directives, so we knew what we had to do in case he was unable to articulate his wishes. He was not, so we made the decision to let him go after it became apparent that he was not going to return to us in any meaningful way. He’s been gone for 16 years, and I miss him every day.
(Side note 4: Gotta get my will and medical directives in order. You probably do, too.)
Oh, and there was an attempted insurrection on my birthday in 2021. So, now my birthday is going to be in the news for the rest of my life for the worst possible reason.
(Side note 5: I have a couple of friends who were born on September 11, so we are all members of a very strange club.)
So, January kinda sucks now, despite the miraculous event of my birth.
Some Januarys, like 2020 and 2021, hit me really hard and I folded like a cheap tent. Other Januarys really didn’t hit me much at all. Sure, I was a little sad on those days, but I carried on and carried forth.
But I’m kinda glad that January has become a not-so-great month for me. I use the month to remind me that I am still here and can still do stuff. And doing stuff is a great way to ease the pain of loss.
So, how is January 2026 treating me so far? Pretty well, as it turns out.
I’d like to think that Mom, Dad, and Charlie would be happy for me and my recent success. I remember their smiles, and how each of those smiles made me feel. And my heart is lightened, for a bit, for a moment. And that is how I am getting through this month of grief.
I hope you can navigate your grief the best way you can.
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