It's Christmas and I don't really know what to say

For starters, let me just say that there needs to be a new rule implemented for Christmas. The new rule is that Christians are not allowed in the movie theaters and must remain with their families for the duration of the holiday. Jews and other non-Christ followers have nothing to do and no place to go on the sacred day of Jeshua's birth, other than, of course, the movie theater and Chinese food. But last night, our theater was packed. And given Denver's relative size and the estimated global population of Jews, there's not a chance in hell that most of the people that formed the lines out the door were not Christians.

All joking/half-joking aside, Christmas time is supposed to be a time of family and loved ones. It's supposed to be the season of giving and rejoicing (for whatever reason you choose). It is not, however, supposed to be a season of mourning and grief. Sadly, some of my old friends from back home and I are doing just that. My friend Jackie, whom I'd known since middle school was killed sometime on Christmas Eve before ever getting to spend her holiday with her mom. It is believed the cause of her death is by homicide. And it's a heartbreaking tale that happens to take place at the worst time of the year possible.

We don't know all the details, but we're all shocked just the same. I can't pretend that she and I were close any more. We hadn't really spoken much since graduating in 1997, but we reconnected this summer via Facebook and MySpace and had plans to hang out last Thanksgiving; plans I had to cancel because I got sick. We were both busy with our lives, but we were slowly catching up on the happenings of the past 11 years. But at one point in our lives, I considered here a very good--if not close--friend. And for that I mourn.

It's always sad when someone you know passes. It's particularly sad when it's someone you've considered a friend--past or present--who is your age, and who has been widely regarded as a genuine good person. It's an odd feeling for me to fight back tears while I write this, knowing that we weren't best friends. When I moved to 5280 more than 4 years ago, I'd all but left my Ohio life behind. But news of "Jax's" death brought a rush of memories and emotion, and the undeniable truth that I'll miss her and what would have been our certain reunion in May.

RIP Jax, we love you.