While my Heart Gently Weeps

This is an odd time for me to be writing in my blog, and I should probably be doing other things, but I feel a great need to express myself right now, and this is one of the places I feel comfortable doing so.

I have always loved the Christmas season. With or without Santa, it's still a special time of year when people try to be a little nicer and look beyond themselves more than they would at other times of the year. I love everything from the music to the lights to all the Christmas activities.

This year I've tried to keep myself especially busy and pack in all the Christmas-oriented events that I can. This includes attending Odyssey Dance Theatre's "It's a Wonderful Life," going to Hale Center Theatre's "A Christmas Carol," going to the MoTab Christmas concert (which just seems to get better and better every year), attending my ward Christmas party, having a holiday gathering at my house with friends from work and even visiting the lights on Temple Square.

But, despite all these wonderful seasonal activities, I'm still struggling to feel the magic that is Christmas.

I'm well aware of the reason for this: my heart is weighed down with sorrow for a little girl who has been struggling for her life for months and now she's tired of the fight. Now she just wants to be done. She's ready for an end to her pain and suffering. And I don't blame her.

With each new terrible development in the last few weeks, it only makes me feel more sorrowful. I hate knowing how much she is suffering, but selfishly I'm also so pained at the idea of letting her go. I feel powerless to do anything to help her or even my sister and her family, who are even more weighed down by this than I am. It breaks my heart to hear about the conversations my sister has with her beautiful angel, conversations like who will take care of her on the other side or if it's suicide if she wants to turn off her pacemaker or wean herself off her meds. Likewise, I feel so sad at the idea my sister is losing her best friend when she loses her daughter.

I often feel like there's a great stone sitting on my chest all the time that is all the emotions associated with this situation. Sometimes it gets better when I cry or when I talk to someone about it, but it never goes away. And although I have a great support team that is there for me, I can't bear to spread the sorrow that I feel with them, even though sometimes I truly can't help it because it's too much for me, so I have to let it out. I want to feel the happiness of the season and although I may seem like I'm doing okay most of the time, inside I'm hurting. And I hurt not just for myself but for my family too. We all love our Miss Sassypants, and we all want only what's best for her.

But that doesn't make losing her any easier, especially if there's a good chance it might be before Christmas.