My husband’s father died Christmas Eve from a rapid onset of acute myeloid leukemia so our holidays were bittersweet. While it was fast, with little pain, and Hospice Odyssey helped us all as we sat vigil from the date of diagnosis (December 17) until he died, it was just such a shock. We picture him now dancing with his wife of 62 years who died this past January. What a wonderful New Year’s Eve they will have.

The following is what I wrote Tuesday morning, December 20, while still at the hospital with him:

They’ve taken him away. He was sleeping as I held his hand, kissed his forehead and said, “I love you” before the hospital bed was rolled out into the long hall, heading to wherever procedures are done.

We have all been reassured that the bone marrow biopsy my father-in-law is about to have is much improved since the days my sister-in-law had hers, 26 years previously. She had Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, and thanks to early detection and treatment, received a clean bill of health and is with us today.

My 85-year-old father-in-law apparently doesn’t have the urinary tract infection first suspected when the family brought him, weak and tired, to ER three days earlier. According to initial tests, we’re looking at a leukemia diagnosis; the bone marrow biopsy will let us know.

This funny curmudgeon of a man lost his partner of 62 years to Alzheimer’s less than a year ago. Though he is in a lovely retirement center, her loss left a hole in his heart that even the nicest of facilities could not comfort. Lacking caregiving skills, he was at a loss even before she died as he watched her fade. He was famous for saying “we’re fine” when neither he nor she was even close to being okay. He wanted so badly for her to get better.

This morning while Dad was gone for the procedure, a hospital volunteer came by. This attractive retired woman had stopped by unannounced with a newspaper for me. “You have a little glitter on your face,” she said and gently removed it. I laughed as I explained it must have come from the sparkly Christmas boxes sitting next to my makeup mirror. I thanked her and said, “I don’t know. Maybe we all could use more glitter about now,” and started to tear up unexpectedly. “It doesn’t look good for him, my father-in-law.” She stayed with me a while and listened.

After Dad was brought back to the room, Kay, the kind volunteer, stopped by to check on us and said, “I have a present for you.” She gave me a wrapped heart-shaped ornament the size and thickness of the palm of my hand. It smelleth wonderful, filled with a deep woods fresh pine scent, like my house at Christmas time when I was a child.

Dad is still sleeping and I am writing, and praying inadequate prayers. Comfort and joy. I pray for comfort and joy for him and his family.

Holding my new ornament in my lap as I type, the scented gift fills my head with memories of my mother and those long-ago Christmases. Kay the volunteer is now gone as I remove the sparkly wide red ribbon on the package and unwrap it to get a better look at my unexpected treasure.

Glitter. The entire heart is covered with silver glitter.

She brought me a glittered heart that sparkles. I cry.

I reach for Dad’s hand and place the heart in it. He continues to sleep as he has for the last three days but I watch as his big hand tightens around the comfort and joy that an angel named Kay brought us.

I’m thinking it would be a good idea for all of us to glitter our hearts and share them over the holidays and in the days ahead. If you do, I bet you’ll experience that same comfort and joy. After all, we could all use a little glitter right now…

If you’re in the Austin area, come share your heart at our January 2012 Re-Story Circle. I promise you you’ll leave with more comfort and joy than when you arrived.

Click on the “Re-Story Circles” tab for more information.