Rob, I will be cheerful once Christmas is past!
Join the club; winter's my worst period for both physical and psychological reasons and nothing will ever change that. It used to be the best time of year when the kids were kids, when my wife's eyes used to sparkle as she created one wondrous thing after the other in the kitchen and even our dogs (one at a time, but over the years we had a couple) would connect with the excitement of the season.
Now, mostly I avoid getting involved with the available faux cheer. I'd rather just go for a walk and help my blood flow along the pipes. Thank God for music.
It brings my mind back to that dreadful shooting, as well as all the rest of them: not simply the actual dead and wounded, as if that were not horror enough, but when you factor in two parents, four grandparents and who knows how many siblings per victim, the true enormity of it fills your soul with tears, for them as for humanity and what it really hides under the facade of rosy cheeks and cotton wool hats.
Oy vey, as some might say.