I'm forced to seclusion. My allergies overpowering. My air conditioned bedroom; my reprieve. Haying, lawn mowing, beautiful blossoms; all causing me discomfort. So, I head to my bedroom. On a gloriously sunny day. I am forced to look at the clutter. The piles of clothes. The boxes of paper. Most of it needing to go. I begin the process. Cards sent when our world shattered. When our first born son was called to glory at 17. When cancer threatened to take a good man down. When the joy thief knocked ... View Post