It is what it is

These are not so much simple things. They tear at my heart strings. I will at least try to end on a happy note.

Having a simple gift that was meaningful to the sender and meaningful to you not be understood by the messenger.

When your 14yo texts you and asks, "which bones does (someone you love) have cancer in? I'm doing some research."

When a doctor tells your someone you love that kidney failure is essentially one of the least painful ways to die. (I cannot here and now articulate why it was said and what was meant by it, just that I know why it was said and what was meant by it and it hurts my heart.)

Feeling completely overwhelmed by being of the sandwich generation. I will be frank. No one can be all things to all people. It's just not possible.

Friends, each who are already carrying their own burdens, who are willing to bear yours for a few minutes--even throughout the day--and even during the holidays.

Texts from friends, some who are already under their own shadow of  sorrow:

"Life is made up of little things."

"I am so sorry. Can I help you with something?" (You always know who are the ones who mean well and who are the ones who really mean it.)

"Keep your chin up. You're one of the good ones. One of the happy ones. Don't let life bring you down."

Hugs.

Love.

People who are not afraid to cry with you.

The miracle of being able to put a dent in the just started Christmas shopping. Home. In my pajamas. Under the comfort of my quilts. Just 8 days before Christmas.

A dear friend who was serious when she offered to order stuff for me with her free two-day shipping so my kids will have a Christmas.