Cari Banks, a widow of three months, has just one wish this Christmas: "Please, let it be over."

On Sunday, she and close to 60 others who feel like islands of sadness in an ocean of merriment gathered for a Blue Christmas service at the Salt Lake Center for Spiritual Living.

Most mourned a loved one, but others came because they've lost jobs or have been diagnosed with terminal illnesses.

They sang traditional carols and heard scripture readings about the birth of Jesus Christ, but they also heard that it's OK to opt out of the "jolly facade," as the Rev. Linda Brewer, the event organizer, put it.

"We may feel more in touch with Tuesday's winter solstice — the longest night, the greatest darkness of the year — than we feel with the celebration of the birth of light into the world," Brewer said in her sermon.

For those who mourn, it does not feel like "the most wonderful time of the year," as lyrics to a famed Christmas song state, Brewer said. Nonetheless, she said, it is indeed a wonderful time.

"Not because of trees and presents and parties and cookies but because it's when we remind ourselves of the meaning of Emmanuel. God is with us," she said.

Participants lit candles as a symbol of hope and sang "Silent Night."

Ric Sharette and Mike Bolz, musicians for Summit Home Health & Hospice in Salt Lake City, accompanied the singing on guitars and a bamboo flute. Sharette also played and sang a song he wrote, "Someone's Missing Here," which moved many to tears.

Banks said the service was both "hard and helpful."

It was hard being reminded that her husband of 21 years, Lonnie Banks, is gone, but she said "it was helpful to be reminded I am not alone."

She finds it impossible to be in a holiday mood. She couldn't decorate because every light, every ornament holds a memory of Lonnie, the consummate Christmas guy, who had music synchronized with his outdoor lights and wore a Santa hat while shopping, she said.

He knew he was dying of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), often referred to as Lou Gehrig's Disease, last Christmas, but insisted on a full celebration, Banks said.

"We never thought it would be us," Banks said. "Now he's gone."

She plans to be in Washington state with family this Christmas.

Joyce Firestack will join her son and his family on a trip to see relatives in Oregon.

Her 16-year-old grandson, with whom she shared a special bond, died last February. She could not decorate the tree this year, because that's something they always did together.

The service was a reminder that others are hurting, too, she said.

"Your heart breaks every day," said Firestack. "It's a comfort to know you're not the only one — because it feels that way."

It's been five years since Brent Marrott lost Jeffery Yoder, his partner of 25 years. But he still finds the Blue Christmas service to be a balm.

In her sermon, Brewer quoted a writer who said that Christmas magnifies everything. That touched Marrott.

"These people who were mainstays in your life are not there. They're not there."

This was the fourth year that Brewer, a chaplain for Summit Home Health & Hospice, has hosted the Blue Christmas service. It was co-sponsored by the Salt Lake Center for Spiritual Living, SereniCare Funeral Home and Summit.

kmoulton@sltrib.com