Memories: lots of happy ones, Tiny, but those do not make me cry. I heard the thud again the other day though. The thud from the fall, then the searing sound of the ambulance and quiet whinnying of the gurney that had come to characterize this later experience. Shocks, body blows - in the face of a million rebelling neurons. I tear up again and again at the memory. I remember the fall, on that morning when the water filter witnessed the suffering of innocence and the cruel mangling of everything pure and dear to me. You were the one on that little cross dear, the rest of us, like Mary, cried as we watched you carry it. Thank God you had the Savior at your left side.