By Vicki Brown We watched it drop. Gradually and gently, it wafted and wobbled in the breeze…spinning a little, then straightening and landing with a smooth plop in the ravine beneath. The decline had deep this means for my family. It intended the close of silence and solitude, the finish of peace and quiet….the end of joy. It meant that our vacation had turned into a nightmare. The shock was practically far too awful to bear. It was gone…and we couldn’t get it again or find a different one. The Binky was gone. Permit me back again up and give you much more to this story. My mother and father…