"The Passing of the Rain Gauge."

I have held off sharing this until this hour. I have a sad tale to tell and knew that only the Northup Group would understand. Dan Cole and Jewels although not true Northup by blood, share the passion so they will understand, as well all of those of you who read these letters. It began raining in Houston at around seven this morning as I headed for work. It continued to rain through the noon hour, until around 2pm. As I drove home tonight, I was increasingly excited until I finally entered my garage. After letting Misty out for her potty break, I strode directly over to the flower bed where I keep my most cherished possession, the rain guage. My trembling hand reached forward, as I squinted to read the measurement with my 51 year old increasingly failing eyes. "One whole inch, wow" I then pulled the glass cylinder out of the base and shook the water into the flower bed. Suddenly to my horror, the glass vial slipped from my hand, bounced off of my leg and careened onto the patio, seemingly in slow motion. I watched as the glass shards flew in all directions. I felt the sting of tears on my cheek as I slowly dropped to my knees and began retrieving the pieces of glass. I then went into the house for a flashlight and picked up some smaller pieces that glistened in the light of my flash (is that correct useage?). I felt the sting of a glass sliver penetrate my index finger and watched as a crimson droplet of blood fell, forever marking the spot of my personal tradgedy. I then marched to the trash can by the back door of the house and stood erect as the pieces fell tinkling from my hand into the darkness below. I then went immediately to the phone and called Shawn, foir he is my oldest and the receiver of certain family heirlooms. He said, "Dad, it's okay, we will buy another." "No" I said, "at least not until the weekend, a proper period of mourning must pass" Shawn agreed, obviously as choked up as I.