{"id":388,"date":"2013-12-23T14:08:12","date_gmt":"2013-12-23T14:08:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/?p=388"},"modified":"2014-01-22T11:08:15","modified_gmt":"2014-01-22T11:08:15","slug":"healing-from-loss-on-the-longest-day-of-the-year","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/robinbotie.com\/blog\/healing-from-loss-on-the-longest-day-of-the-year\/","title":{"rendered":"Healing from Loss on the Longest Day of the year"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"early<\/a>Three years ago in December, I was staying at the Ronald McDonald House in Rochester<\/a>, a few blocks from Strong Memorial Hospital <\/a>where my daughter was preparing for her stem cell transplant. At the time there was only one family and very few staff there; everyone else had gone home for the holidays. When a small troupe of musicians showed up one night, the volunteer in the office begged me to join the tiny audience in the living room. I did, although I was not in the mood for Christmas carols. Marika had sung in caroling groups and now she was stuck in the hospital with leukemia. It didn\u2019t seem right that I should be serenaded in that beautiful living room, next to a huge lit-up tree.
\nThe musicians outnumbered the audience. I sat before them in a rocking chair and tried to smile. It was fine for the first couple of songs. But when they started \u201cIt Came Upon a Midnight Clear<\/a>\u201d something inside me cracked. I tried to hide my tears. I did not want to be hugged by the volunteer or anyone. By the time they got around to \u201cSilent Night\u201d I was completely broken.
\nMy reaction surprised and confused me. Marika was still alive and there was so much hope. We were moving forward. We were on the upside. Why was I miserable? I had no idea then that in less than three months our world would crash.<\/p>\n

On the longest night of the year, three years later, I went to the Gifts of the Winter Solstice concert at Ithaca\u2019s Hospicare<\/a>. The large living room was packed. There were only a few familiar faces in the crowd as I wormed my way to a seat in the back.
\nIt was supposed to be a celebration of the winter solstice so I did not expect Christmas carols. Three notes into the introduction of \u201cSilent Night\u201d my heart catapulted into my stomach. I glanced around wildly to make a quick exit but there was no way out of the crammed room. I was stuck.
\nThe lights blurred through my tears. But halfway into the song I knew I would be all right. The lyrics were about heavenly peace and redeeming grace, brightness and calm. It suddenly became a lullaby and I let it settle me.<\/p>\n

In the past three years, peace has grown within me. The pain of my daughter\u2019s death sits more gently on my heart now. After the concert I lingered a short while to have cookies and a few words with friends from my old grief group. And later, in the rain, walking my dog before bed, I sang \u201cSilent Night\u201d to the invisible moon. I sang to my angel on the other side of the moon, on the darkest longest night of the year.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Three years ago in December, I was staying at the Ronald McDonald House in Rochester, a few blocks from Strong Memorial Hospital where my daughter was preparing for her stem cell transplant. At the time there was only one family and very few staff there; everyone else had gone home for the holidays. When a […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[25],"tags":[11,10,8,9],"class_list":["post-388","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-25","tag-ithaca-hospice","tag-leukemia","tag-ronald-mcdonald-house","tag-strong-memorial-hospital"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t