Journal



#1,295 Stay Close In.

It’s been a fantastic day at home, even though the circumstances are less than ideal. I’m going to be swallowing a pill-sized camera tomorrow so the doctors can see if my sicknesses are coming from somewhere the scopes couldn’t detect. What this means is that I’ve spent today drinking what seemed like 10 gallons of Gatorade mixed with a flavorless (thank you, Lord) powder that has kept me from leaving the house. Maybe you’ve been there? Anytime stormy weather is on the way, or if I’ve “taken a cold,” my mammaw tells me to “stay close in.” And so, I did.

Ben’s been gone most of the day getting ready for tonight’s youth meeting at the Wilsons’ house, so I’ve spent time changing the bed linens, washing dishes, lighting candles that smell like apple pie and watching it rain while trying to stay awake and listening to the Decemberists. I might be excited for fall already. I can’t help it!

Even though I’ve only seen maybe one or two of his movies, I was for some reason really sad to hear that James Gandolfini died a few days ago. I kept reading these news stories about him and what an incredible actor he was, how he gave Tony Soprano a boyish depth that made people love him, how this is a particularly sad celebrity death because God has managed to do what the creators of The Sopranos just couldn’t in the final episode of the series—kill James Gandolfini. He was just so loved, despite the character’s evil doings.

Well, we’re apparently the last people on earth to watch the show. So we’ve been watching them, and I get it. I totally understand why people loved it so much. This is out of character for me—I’ve never even seen a mobster movie before. I don’t really know what the mafia does, but I’m learning. When Tony isn’t murdering people, he reminds me very much of my brother-in-law, Tom. I think it was his favorite TV show probably because he saw a little of himself in Tony. He’s short-tempered in an endearing sort of way, and you can tell he’s tenderhearted under the tough facade.

Allison, don’t you dare tell him I said that.