The last eight months have been for me a forced march through some pretty awful terrain ... chloe's death, my sister's cancer, some surreal brother battles, and .. and .. and .. and ..

Hard to even write about this last one, this recent, rotted, overwhelming undertow. Some things are just bigger than words allow, and so with pathetic resignation I find myself talking in a trance, watching words babble out my mouth, feeling like I'm playing a harp with oven mitts.

A month ago, my wife and I were joyful beyond measure, celebrating the birth of our adopted baby girl, watching with reverence the miracle of her every move, learning the rhythm of feedings and car seats and diaper changes. Then... the birthparents changed their minds.

They took her back.

And now with time enough to feel. I guess the project push was holding my insides together, because now it's not. Surveying my terrain, two words come to mind: scorched earth.

If people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them to break them, so of course it kills them. The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. - Hemingway

Good news I guess, then. I'm destroyed.