Last night, on Christmas morning, just after midnight, a crew member leapt to her death.

After nine hours of searching with spotlights and hundreds of eyes in the blackness, the search was called off, and the ship continued on its way. Toward the next port, toward sunny beaches and rum punch and fabulous duty-free shopping.

Why, so many people wondered–or at least those who knew the details–would someone so young, with so much to live for, choose to end her life at such a promising time? She was so young, so loved by so many. The answer is as mysterious as the location of her final resting place.

We can try to make sense, we can try to reason it away, but the bottom line is this: it was Christmas, it was a sunny day, and there was no damn reason in the world why it should’ve happened. And that’s life, boys and girls.

Merry Christmas.