The sun broke through, in the west,

while the skies above the eastern hills stayed thick and dark, as I pulled in front of my house after a seemingly endless day.

Pretty accurate mirror to my mood. Again.

When my mom died about ten years ago, I found myself surprisingly able to forgive her for a lot of truly bad behavior - trust me, bad - and I often thought what I would give to have her back for just a day, even at her most difficult.

Multiply that, by any number of your choosing, and that's what I feel right now, when I try to get my head around the growing mass of losses in my life. In all our lives.

But that sun eased the burden for a moment. Is there such a thing as a bread-and-butter miracle?