Signifying how far away everything was from this strip of sand I stood upon.

Out on the seas away from phones, Internet, Facebook and demands of life, I can step back a bit and relax. In fact on this last day at sea, I have sequestered myself in my tiny room. I have been here mostly in the dark, with light from my IPad reading the new Coburn novel and trying to stay calm.

Television, CNN out of Atlanta,has been telling horrific stories of the rain in Houston. We do not know what we will come home to find. We had service long enough in Mexico to learn the farm had been hit hard again with several inches of rain. The electricity which also runs the water well in rural areas had been off for hours when we reached our farm-sitter, Libby. She has definitely gotten to experience the overwhelming responsibilities of running a horse farm in the worst of situations.

The television stories of destruction and death are cycling through the news reports. I shudder each time I hear the story anew of the washed away death of the cheerleader/prom queen/treasured daughter. I hear the reporters say that theses events only occur every 500 or 1000 years, and yet they have hit all these places at once. I do not understand.

I have seen nothing but blue skies and tropical sun for the last four days. I think I just sat on a primitive beach with the softest sand I have ever encountered facing the most brilliant sea I have ever seen. I have been blessed to run my toes through the sand of a lot of the world’s best beaches but yesterday in the remote far side of Cozumel was incredible.

Powered white sand beaches, a tiny building with only a generator to keep the lights on and the drinks flowing

Hard to believe cars and homes are floating away at home. We arrive early tomorrow and will be off in the first wave of passengers. I have two more vacation days ahead but have established a long list of must-do work items for both Thursday and Friday.

I hear my new mare is lame with a swollen ankle. I hope to God it is not serious. I hope it was not a snake bite garnered in the deep, wet grasses of the lower pasture. I hope the flooding was minimal and the electricity is powering through the lines

Others are planning and booking their next cruise. I will not leave home again for a long while. I have enjoyed the diversion but am ready to take up the fight again. As I lie here, my stomach and chest are clinched in anxiety. So much I need to do and so much I cannot control.

As this last day ends on the high seas I will pack my things and prepare to disembark in the morning. For now I will read a little longer, say prayers for those who have lost so much in these horrible floods and give thanks for this time with my family.