And the Cardinal Hits the Window...

I picked up Dusty first thing this morning, tuning and coaxing sounds from her tired strings. The window is open, and birds sing, and insects crawl about in my yard.

I thought of Jackie, and played and sang Casimir Pulaski Day, not expecting my voice to break and tears to fall.

Cancer of the bone. It stole her vibrancy. It robbed us of her presence. It washed her away like she never was.