Random thoughts on a Monday afternoon

Random thought #1) This was what I was doing this time last year.... probably at this very moment. Look how little that boy was. Love that kid. (Pause for a brief moment of prayer: Dear Lord, please don't let the oil hit Destin beaches before our vacation in July. PLLLEEEAASSSSEEE! Amen.)

Random thought #2) Oh how I love my back patio. It's nothing special, but such an oasis of thought for me. Matt was gone all weekend, and I spent so much time out there, thinking, praying, EDITING, dreaming. It's the little things....

Random thought #3) Several people have asked me about my insulin pump and how it works (i.e. how often it sticks me). The pod pictured below is one that has been used and discarded. (I change pods every three days.) When I activate a pod, the cannula is automatically inserted just the once and stays in until I change pods 3 days later. The initial insertion only takes a fraction of a second, and is more intimidating than painful. I scream every. single. time. Such a big baby. I'm sure I'll get used to it. Once it's in, I don't feel it again, and it doesn't hurt at all to remove. I took a picture of the little tube that goes in. See? Not so bad.

Random thought #4) I am almost finished marking up my book, then I have to actually go back through and make the corrections on the computer. Most pages look like this... or worse. I am sure that this is not the proper way to go about things, but this is my I-have-no-idea-what-I'm-doing way of doing it. Whatever works, right?

And since I am literally get sick at my stomach at the thought of eyes other than my own actually reading this thing, I decided to post a little from the first chapter here. Baby steps.

*****

She looked over her shoulder. No one in sight. She stood and approached the casket that sat waiting on steel beams to be lowered into the earth. The wood was shiny and smooth, and Kate ran her fingers across it. How wrong it seemed for something so beautiful to be buried deep beneath the ground, away from the world and everyone in it.

Suddenly the rain came. It pounded down on her tired body, soaking the new black dress she would never wear again. Her legs grew weak and began to shake. She looked up to the sky, undaunted by the mounting storm. The heavy drops stung her cheeks and mingled with the black mascara that ran from her eyes. Her bottom lip and chin began to quiver. The knot in her throat rose high.

She had remained elegantly poised since her arrival home. Family and friends and even those she had never met commented on her graciousness and strength. Many said she reminded them of her father who had died when Kate was only nine years old—a picture of bravery, they said. Only Aunt Modean and Truitt knew about Gray and the other woman and how Kate’s world had come crashing down around her in a single, unforeseen instant. Though, everyone would know soon enough. Millsville was small, and gossip spread with unrivaled intensity. Already chatter about Gray’s absence at the funeral was making the rounds among Millsville's most scandal-savvy citizens. Soon they would all know.

Standing in the rain, Kate thought of Gray and the ornate, oversized flower arrangement that came To the Boudrow Family from Debbie’s Flowers and Gifts with the card that read simply,'With Sympathy, Gray Canton'. While Kate had not expected him to attend the service, she had anticipated a phone call or note. If not to her, to Jane Ellen. But there had been nothing. Only, 'With Sympathy, Gray Canton'.

Kate’s body shuddered, and she wondered if thoughts of that night or the cold October wind were to blame. Alone amid the graves, pain took over and the sobs came without ceasing. Not since that night had she cried. Not since that night had she felt the desperation that now choked her. She had been too busy caring for Jane Ellen and her mother’s funeral preparations to wallow in the self-pity that was rightfully hers. But now quivering legs could no longer hold her, and she fell to her knees on the wet ground and took her face in her hands.

“Mama! You can’t leave me now. Please!” She caught her breath between sobs and dug her fingers into the soft earth of either side of her. “Please.” She pleaded, this time with the rain. “Wash me away.”