I was not raised to send greeting cards and hand written notes at every occasion. I was not raised to rejoice loudly and vocally. In fact interpersonal conversation involving anything I truly felt or thought was not highly encouraged. Most of this is part of my Minnesota cultural heritage. Emotion expend too much energy when we have to keep warm (at -60) and chop the fire wood.
Often times our attempt to share our emotions end up as a few brief words describing what we see or did rather then our feelings on the matter. One could almost think our emotions are covered in a parka- they show forth once a year for those 3 brief days of summer.
So how do we show forth our feelings? Those of us raised in MN have learned to read the body language through the parkas.... but that does not help those of us who feel the need to express.
I have found that even most of the time that I can not adequately express my self through prayer, but to praise or cry out in agony of soul I needed an outlet. So I had to learn to dance. I had to learn to sing.
And so, as my family gathers at the bedside of my Aunt Katie (and I am stuck at home, with hyperactive, bored and autistic children) I will dance for her. My dance will be one of joy of her part in my life, it will be one of sadness for the family as we will all greatly miss her, it will be one of hope and praise in the beauty of the atonement and resurrection and the promise of eternal families. It will go on until my resources are exhausted and my heart pains are sung out, until the sorrow is swallowed up and replaced with joy.
For Aunt Katie I wish I could share it and have those witness it feel it too.