No matter how hard I fight it, I can't shake off the memories of Ana and what could have been. I cannot help but think of my mother and daddy and how hard it is for them right now. I think of this incredibly kind and mercy-filled couple whose son is in prison...of our neighbor next door who lost their son in a tragic accident during a football game. It just seems wrong to celebrate during Christmas sometimes.

I fought yesterday to remember the birth of the One whose very birth, death, and resurrection ended up meaning life for me. But, today, the day after, well...it's just hard. Maybe it will pass. Maybe it's hormonal. Maybe, it just hurts.