What these letters usually say is, "It's not you, it's me," but that would be lying. 2016, it was you who damaged our relationship, with all the tragedy and angst.
You took Bowie and Prince, George Michael, Merle Haggard.
Each one's passing left us torn and tattered.
You forced us to bid goodbye to John Glenn and Glenn Frey.
You took Alans Rickman and Thicke without batting an eye.
Pat Summitt, Craig Sager, John Saunders, Gwen Ifill...
Without the curse of disease, you'd all be with us still.
Doris Roberts, Gene Wilder, Gary Shandling, Gary Marshall,
Your absence has swung us from cheerful to tearful.
Sharon Jones, Phife Dawg, Maurice White, Leonard Cohen,
Even though gone, your musical talents will always live on.
Ali, Nancy Reagan, Elie Wiesel, Janet Reno,
You shaped history in ways we may not even know.
This week's newest losses have put us in dumbfounded distress,
Debbie Reynolds and daughter Carrie Fisher... our very own Princess.
Of course, these are just some of the "greats," ones we all hear about.
There are also those close to us, some of whom we must now live without.
2016... so swift to assign fates of cancer and divorce,
And sweep away loved ones with unabashed force.
Yes, death is unavoidable; there's no fountain of youth.
Sometimes it's just hard to face the inevitable truth.
I'm not one to hold grudges; I may even consider a reprieve.
But, I'm holding onto 2017's hope for good health, joy and peace.