I felt very productive today, either finishing or starting a few projects.  I’m particularly excited about a new website I’ll be starting on soon.

I kept so busy, in fact, that I hardly noticed the Mason girls being here.  I think I saw them once, when Amanda called me out to the living room.  Callie was playing Milly’s new guitar and Milly was dancing.  She had Amanda sing to complete the scene.  I did notice their excited screams from time to time, and I noticed that Milly and Callie both cried at different times.  I think Milly’s was when they were coming downstairs from having played in Milly’s room and Callie’s was when she was leaving.  Milly tried to console her and walked her out to the car when Allison picked her girls up.

Amanda was proofing a document I’d come up with this evening and returned to the living room to find that Milly had decorated herself with body art.  Fortunately her Crayola markers wash off with soap and water.  She’d drawn all over both her her arms and her belly.

I just realized that this is the second day in a row where I forgot to do my Milly pushups.  Dangit!

At small group we continued our Starting Point discussion, touching on creation at this point.  We had a guest couple, friends of Reece who came to check us out.  It was my turn to tell my life story, which apparently took about 20 minutes.  I was shocked to hear I’d been talking that long.

When we got home Kirsten told us that she had found out that Brody Winslow had died.  Now, I never knew Brody, but I do know the Winslows and how close they are with the Frazelles.  From what I’ve gathered, Brody and some friends, who were in Hawaii, were biking around 7:30 this morning when a car hit him then ran into a telephone pole.  I saw a picture of the telephone pole on a Hawaiian news website, and the pole was completely broken, like it had been chopped in half.  And then woman who hit him ran but was picked up later.

Brody’s friends called his dad, who had to break the news to his mom, who was at the post office to mail something to him.  How do you do either one of those things?  How do you call your friend’s dad to tell him that his son had just been killed?  How do you, as a father and a husband, tell your wife that your child was just killed?  I posed that question to Amanda and I’m guessing the same thing ran through both of our heads.  It’s unfathomably horrific.

Amanda talked to Anna, who she said could hardly speak.  Like I said, the Frazelles and the Winslows are close friends, and they have been for a very long time.  I’m sure for Anna and Barry it’s almost like losing one of their own.  It’s just such a bad thing.

Zach Dotsey