As we fall into a routine of non-structure, the tension in the air has lifted. He's smiling again. He's happy.
From the wilting rose, comes the budding, shining, laughing burst of color that keeps us all in stitches and makes us think.
Just when you think it's too late for resurrection. That it's been dead too long. Awake, alive, aware of everyting around you. We brought him back from the brink.
Welcome home, my dear!!