It's 1:30 in the morning and I'm here, eyes swollen and nose running from all the sobbing I've done today. Every time my brain grabs hold of the horror that took place in Connecticut, the tears roll.
I thought I'd check in (electronically) on a local boy who is battling a vicious cancer. Maybe he had a good day today maybe I could focus on that. But the last post sounds like they're being forced to say goodbye very soon, maybe before Christmas.
Tomorrow morning we're supposed to have breakfast with Santa. It seemed like a good idea when we planned it. Now it seems ridiculous. I'm starting to wonder if I planned so much *magic* into this season because I (not the kids) needed an antidote to the saddness this year is ending on.
The reserves of joy and hope are dwindling and though *we're* fine -- things are not fine around us. I am broken of heart and don't know how to alleviate it, even in small part.
But we'll go tomorrow. My kids will have a good time and it'll be a beautiful memory for all of us. It'll be good to hold it against the ugly memories that will linger from this year.
(edited for formatting/typo's-- can't do posts on my phone again :) )
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