Slowly the foundation sinks, the mortar cracks and we are left standing in a shell of what used to be all to familiar. However crooked and warped you still love parts of it. Always. Windows start to break and doors no longer close. Letting in everything we do not want and letting out what was left of the warmth. Now we stand divided, heart and home. Home is where the heart is and she is home. Not this house built on sand.