By a foster parent, to foster parents. God has given us a unique calling in life. I hope this blog encourages someone out there and, in time, builds some community. Feel free to comment and to subscribe. Sunday, August 2, 2015. Seeing your child in uncontrollable pain is like clenching your teeth until they shatter. Seeing your child in pain is like smashing every square inch of glass out of every window in your home. The tears came crashing down like rivers on his cheeks.

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That Sunday I personally managed to avoid the tidal wave of grief by visiting friends who, like myself, had other interests. I imagine it would be harder to do even that these days, such is the power of the media and the need of all and sundry to over-emote at the drop of a hat. Spend a day in bed? Posted in The Sage.

É poesia amor, não é medo. Se é para fazer loucuras, que façamos juntos. Ainda descalça, ela caminhou até a porta. Ainda deitado, ele a observava. Ela parou na porta e ajeitou o vestido. Ele levantou, caminhou até ela, aguardou ela recolocar seus sapatos de salto alto. Agora na mesma altura se beijaram. Agora era o apartamento dele que estava cheio de lembranças. Caminhou por entre os cômodos, refazendo os passos dela.