Greetings to all,

It's good to hear from snowy northern Ontario as well as the far west. Down south it is grey and windy, with perhaps sleet on the weekend. I have done my best to brighten up Pablo's room with a little woolen creche from Peru and a blooming Christmas cactus. It's hard to know if he is noticing. His suffering has greatly increased over the past month, and to ease pain he is on stronger doses of pain medication. I want him to not suffer, but it is hard to see him so unresponsive.

Still, we will have Christmas. Family are coming afterwards, and if it's not too cold, we will take him for a walk every day. Last night I wheeled him outside just long enough to look at the nearly full moon. Anything to have just a bit of real connection.

Sending love across the border and all across Canada. Wishing each one the needed mesasure of love, peace and patience.

Nouce

^{Dear Xenia:}

Thank you for writing and for your continued friendship.  The past fall and winter have been very difficult for my family.  Sarah's illness continues to take a toll on her physically and cognitively. Our granddaughter was gravely ill this winter.  Both her diagnosis and proposed therapies have become more complicated and life threatening.  The stress of caring for her has exhausted my daughter and son-in-law physically, emotionally, and financially.  AS a family, we are worn out. WE have been deaing with the daily concrete impact of life threating illnesses, and the grief and stress of anticipating more of the same as our children become symptomatic for almost twenty years. The repeated threats to Maudie's young life has been my undoing, and left our kids broken.

I am overwhelmed at times by the anxiety and grief that I experience, but even more so by the grief and anxiety I see in my kids and the despair I see in Sarah's eyes. It is such a weight of sadness, and it goes on and on and on.  

So ....that's my morning struggle. It breeds anger and despondency.  It alienates me from the good fortune of others and leaves me immune to the small talk of social gatherings.  It is a grinding which seems intent on turning my nerves and bones, sinews and heart to dust - slowly. 

I get up each morning afraid of what the day will bring for Sarah or Maudie or my other kids. Courage deserts me the moment the phone rings.  I put one foot in front of the other - not bravely, not wisely, not virtuously.  I walk, and I sleep. It is such a struggle to bring needed comfort and strangth to your family when you yourself are so empty of courage and joy.

JIm