Catherine

Catherine Lysle would often sit at her bedroom window watching the boats out at sea, her house over looked the harbour, so much so it was known as, "The house over the water." She knew the fishermen, she had grown up with most of them, she had married one.
James Lysle hauled his nets and was satisfied with the catch, it was cold, it was November, it was 1780 when men relied on fish and luck and knowing the weather. Clouds were building in the West, a blow was coming, with a fair catch it was best to head home; around the bay other boats had set sail and were bound back to the shelter of the harbour.
From her window Catherine could see the darkening sky, she felt a cold chill upon her back but remained watching, waiting for the familiar figure of her husband to come sailing around the Quay head. The tide was slipping away, boats were gathering, men, home and safe looked out at the remaining boats as they were met by the freshening breeze.

Things happen when you're in a hurry, when you least expect, when one thing on your mind takes over for a second from the things you should be concentrating on, the things you would normally do automatically. Just for a second James looked away; Catherine was at the window, just for a second he saw her, she was looking, searching out to sea, just for a second he didn't notice the gust of wind, the cracking billow, the loose rope, just for a second, a second too long.

Catherine could see a boat just off the Quay, she thought something looked wrong, was that a man in the water? was that James? she froze at the window unable to look away. The crew of the boat hauling at the heavy wet lug sails were trying to bring the boat about, but were drifting away from the man in the water, lines thrown failed to reach him. Other boats noticing that something was wrong were bearing down, frantically men were launching small boats from the shore intent on reaching him.
Catherine watched, she didn't see the boats heading in, she didn't notice the men pulling out, she was unaware of the changing weather, the screaming gulls, the breaking seas or the cruel rain just starting. She saw only the man in the water, she saw only James.

James never saw the boats heading towards him, his own boat drifting away or the lines thrown too short towards him, he never heard the calls of the men or the gulls or the seas as they broke around him, James only saw Catherine. Catherine cried.
Catherine was buried on the 15th of May in 1830, she was 90 years old. For the passed 50 years she had mourned her James and been labelled as a "Lunatic." She had loved her James.
Catherine's cottage has since been known as "Crazy Kates Cottage." Today it is my home but it will always be her home first.