At mid-life everyone should do themselves a favor, and everyone else around them. Stop, and glance back, over-the-shoulder. The windstorm, or in my case, the tornado fog, has fallen and drifted into the path I left behind me; I can finally SEE all the interesting leftovers. Sometimes the looking back is the most clarifying view. Not everything, but so many things, start to make sense. Soon, a good cry erupts and tears watermark the neck line of my shirt, again. It’s a massive