Somehow Richard had managed to get out of bed and fall over at the hospital.  Unhurt save for another tear on his poor abused elbows which always bear the brunt of his falls - guess better than his hips.

He was more himself yesterday but mentally off with the fairies.  Realized as I was leaning in listening to another fantasy (how would we ever manage to sell this hospital?) I was humouring a stranger  because that's what you do.  But then there was a moment, a hug, a fierce hug, and the Richard of old asking if I had any idea how much he loved me?  My heart breaks.

And mends again.

What else can I do?  How he would hate this.  How he would hate being dependent upon others.  How he would hate the incontinence.  How he would hate not being in charge of his own fate. 

I don't know why things happen.  I don't know why there is unfairness and injustice.  I don't know if there even has to be a reason.  Is it the nature of our minds that everything must have a rationale?  And because of that we make ourselves miserable when we can't find one? 

Sometimes things are just too big to grasp, to make sense of and the only thing left is to put one foot in front of the other.  That's been my unofficial motto.  Just keep going.