In a Moment

Come now, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city." . . . . . Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow.
James 4:13–14

As it turned out, we did not get to Paige's Pinning Ceremony as planned. The morning started out sunny, but before long the sky turned dark and ominously heavy. Then the rain started falling as it had for most of the week, and around noon we were smack dab in the middle of a noisy thunderstorm. We were both near the front window when a very loud and sharp thunderclap hit making me jump. Raymond looked out and saw sparks on the driveway. I witnessed a momentary red glow on my favorite maple and saw a long black gash in its trunk that I swore was not there before. Then an even stranger thing, the windshield wipers on his car, the one we were going to drive up the mountain, were moving back and forth. He covered up and went out to check. The car was dead except for the busy wipers. He disconnected the battery or whatever, and we called the insurance company and a towing service that didn't come til after four.

That was my closest experience with lightning. It was a weird thing.

But as to the ceremony, thanks to the internet I watched it on the school's web site as if I were there. I was so emotional about the whole thing, I probably would have embarrassed her anyway.