Twenty years ago, a 27 year old police officer was sitting in his patrol car at a traffic light.
While he was sitting there, he was ambushed.
Officer Brian Gibson was killed.
His family and his fellow Washington DC officers would never be the same.

How do you handle something so tragic and unexpected?
How do you go on?
Which emotions rise to the surface?
How do those emotions affect other people?

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This post was originally published on December 6, 2013.
Due to an all-day power outage, a new Whisper was unable to be published for today.

You hear interesting things when you are doing your Christmas shopping.
You hear snippets of conversations that people are having with sales clerks.
You hear snippets of conversations that people are having with friends.
You hear snippets of conversations that people are having with someone on the phone.

I am not eavesdropping.
I am never around long enough to evenly remotely understand what is being said.
It is not my conversation.
Sometimes, I am stuck in the same location and I can’t help but hear.

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I was playing the piano.
I don’t play as often as I would like.
I try to play during the day if I can, particularly this time of year.
This is when the baby grand piano has Christmas music books on it.

I smile when I get the music books out each year.
The books are held together with tape.
The books are elephant-eared.
The books are marked with pen.

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It is the quintessential pose.
Pressing your nose up against the glass.
Looking out the window to see if you will be the first to see it.
Then all of a sudden, it comes.

One flake, then two.
Soon the walkways look as if someone sprinkled powered sugar over them.
Not long after that, the grass will be covered.
The first snowfall is always worth the wait.

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I passed their house almost every day.
It was a typical colonial house with a front porch.
I never turned my head towards the house except at Christmas time.
The spotlight on the front lawn helped call attention to what was intended to be a focal point.

A wicker settee and two chairs could easily be passed over on any given day.
However, at Christmas time the settee became the resting place for Mr. and Mrs. Claus.
The festive couple were not gaudy in any way.
Actually, as the Claus couple go, they were quite subdued.

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This is the time of year for choices.
This is the time of year for decisions.
I watch people in the stores as they hold out two hangers.
You can see the wheels turning as they try to decide between this shirt or that one.

When a decision is made, that usually means something else is laid aside.
You must give up one thing for another.
If you are shopping for a gift that is not life changing.
Given a harder choice, the decision means everything.

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There is a book on our shelf that was a favorite to read.
I still laugh at some of the dialog.
I know the story inside out.
The book was made into a movie; the movie is equally funny.

It is the story of the Herdmans, a group of children who seem to raise themselves.
Their father left the family years before and the mother does the best she can.
The mother works at a shoe factory and consequently, the children are frequently alone.
Everyone in school is afraid of the Herdmans since they bully to get what they want.

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Ask anyone about their Christmas traditions and you will hear a lot of different stories.
Ask anyone about the Christmas decorations they remember as a child and be surprised.
Each person has their own Christmas story.
Each person has their own Christmas memories.

I remember two snowmen that used to get hung up each year.
Their heads looked as if someone sliced a Styrofoam ball in half.
In this way, the snowmen were able to lay flat against the wall.
They each wore a black hat and had a perpetual smile.

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She had been burning the candle at both ends.
She knew it but she had to get things done.
She knew her attitude was not the best.
But all of the preparations do not just happen.

All of the gifts do not buy themselves.
All of the cards do not get magically written.
She was losing her Christmas spirit and she knew it.
She just didn’t know how to get it back.

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I spent the morning wrapping Christmas presents.
My husband set up the large folding table in our bedroom.
Wrapping in our bedroom is a bit easier since all of the presents are nearby.
I had my own wrapping station ready to go.

However, there was so many things that needed to be done beforehand.
First, the presents have to be taken out of the closet and put into piles.
Then, I have to count how many boxes I need to get from the attic.
I had to go downstairs in the kitchen and get the scissors, tape, and permanent marker.

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