I walked through the business complex in the Old Town part of San Diego. The first thing I saw when I walked into the waiting room was a tub of Red Vines; waves of comfort and optimism permeated my soul. A Sunset Magazine jumped out at me from the rack. I reached for it, sat down and thumbed through a few pages.
The door opened a few moments later and an attractive, 40-something woman with chestnut shoulder-length hair and a warm smile said, “You must be Kelly.”
Five minutes in her office, after I told her a bit about myself, she then asked, “So, let’s discuss your brother.”
The tears began to flow; she handed me the box of Kleenex and that’s where we began.
45 minutes later as I walked out of the complex, I noticed in the courtyard a beautiful gurgling fountain with Mexican tile — I hadn’t noticed it on my way in.
The clouds are already starting to part.