And here we are again, the dog and I, sipping our coffee from cups or licking up our water from steel bowls, sneezing in the early morning sunlight, forgetting to finish our breakfasts. There is much to do but we cannot remember what comes first. We lift our noses to the edges of windows; we grope for the scent of the people we love, who may come back. Our rheumy eyes weep without cease, but we are smiling. That is the way our faces are made.