Here is a story from today that reflects all the bitterness of this holiday.

I woke up early and, out of habit, immediately reached for my phone—at least someone had to remember to send me a message this morning, a smiley, a kind word. But the screen was completely dark.

I got up, made myself some coffee, sat by the window, and waited. Fifty-two years—it's not exactly a milestone, not a big milestone, but does that make me any less myself? Am I not a living person who craves attention and basi...