The holiday for the Nativity always leaves me with mixed feelings to start with. Stuck somewhere between my heart and my gut feelings, is this unfortunate dread: when everyone else rejoices in the Nativity of the infant, I am thinking, Ye gods, what a hard road that little boy has to travel. I can't get "Let this cup pass from me" out of my mind for some strange reason.

So, although there is grief and loss when someone passes on, -- depending on whether the passing is expected, or a complete shock -- it consoles me to consider that someone has been released from suffering.