The Sky Was A Painting

I was reading one of my favorite bloggers today, her daughter so similar to my own CB that I feel like the four of us are kindred spirits.

She wrote of bearing witness to nearly two decades of seizures, caring for a child who never grows up and enduring the weight of all that comes with it.  Yet, it is the changing of the soaked bed sheets again and again that nearly undoes her. 

Yup, that pretty much says it all.

For all the things we endure unflinchingly, it's often those little things that completely unravel us.

When I walked by my window at twilight, I was completely disarmed. The domed sky a painting, larger than life, more vivid and surreal than these photo can even suggest.

And it struck me that while it's often the smallest of things that undo us, it's sometimes the smallest of things that save us.