Cancer, Coping, and the Every-Day Maces

Well, here we are. Our first Christmas without Hyrum. A time-intensive gift kept me busy enough not to think about it for the first two weeks of December, but I sure do feel it now. I’m usually so joyful, grateful, jazzed for the activities we do at Christmas time. We’ve still done all the Christmas things, but day by day that heavy feeling grew inside of me… “I just don’t want a Christmas if my Hyrum isn’t here.” Why bother with gifts if what I want is just… my son? And all the season’s magic, all the parties and the lights are trying hard to trick me. I’m the only sad one, right? All my other friends are happy, frosting cookies, hanging colored lights… I know that isn’t really true. But it’s taken a good cry and some solid journaling and a good scripture study to give me back perspective, and the courage to just let this Christmas holiday be sad. Two years ago, the kids and I made a million gingerbread cookies and delivered them with songs and notes at a rest home. We walked there on