Grief seems to silently collect like dust around you when your guard is down or it can savagely leap out from strange corners when you least expect it.  For the last couple of weeks I have had the “mangles” (don’t look it up in the medical dictionary, it is just my word for things being all out of sorts).  Feeling my age and then some.  Among other ailments, I have a hurt foot and had to cry to get past the doctor’s efficient scheduling girl for an appointment.  It will probably quit hurting as soon as I get to the doctor’s office.  But in the interim, grief has grabbed me around the throat because it knows I am weak today. 

I took this picture from the window of my Dad’s hospital room when I was so clueless.  Surely it has some meaning…