Stormy Weather

This past week, storms ravaged the Eastern part of the United States, and Georgia was not overlooked by the anger of the skies.  They brought rain and hail.  The lightning streaked across the sky and thunder crashed over our heads as the furious battle between warm and cold fronts clashed, wreaking havoc across several states.  Many people had warnings hours before the storm system arrived that the tornadoes might come, but nobody really knew what to expect until the storms actually arrived.  My family was no different.

Our children are unusually sensitive to storms, especially the boys.  If we know a big one is on its way, Richard and I usually try to warn them so they will be less frightened.  We have discovered over the years that our brood tends to do better in scary situations when they have an idea of what might be coming.  That way, when the thunder begins to sound and the rain starts to pelt the ground, they are not caught off guard.  They merely come join us in whatever room we happen to be and let us know they are ready to remain with us until the storm has passed.

Last Wednesday was no exception.  I kept an eye out on weather.com to keep updated on when to expect the worst of the system.  I saw the radars showing the green for rain, the yellow and orange for hail, and the deep red for severe weather situations.  The storm extended from the Louisiana coast all the way up to the lower portion of Ohio, so I knew it was a biggie.  When the children came home from school, I set about to prepare them as much as possible.

I showed them the maps and let them know the storms would probably show up a little after 8pm, and let them ask all their questions.  Yes, there would be a lot of rain.  Yes, there would be thunder and lightning.  Yes, there might be hail.  Yes, we needed to be prepared to camp out in our hallway for a while if the tornado warning sirens sounded.  I let them help me get some things together to put in the hall closet in case we needed them.  I let them get their blankets ready just in case.  We went over the procedures and were as prepared as we were going to be.

Around 8:15, the wind picked up and the children were concerned, so they all hopped down the stairs.  I told them it was safe to play upstairs until either we called them or until they heard the sirens.  They heard the rain and saw the thunder bolts but were not unduly alarmed.  Assured that we would, indeed, be keeping an eye on the weather, they bounded happily back upstairs to play.

Truth be told, I was rather concerned.  I had already heard what damage had occurred in parts of Alabama, so I was ready to take the children into the hall the moment it started to hail.  I was more vigilant than usual over the weather.  9pm came and still no hail; the storm should have been right over us by this time.  9:30...there was some wind and rain, but nothing like a few days before.  10:00 and the storm was gone.  Having lived in South Texas and weathering Hurricane Brett, I was on edge when it got quiet.  I was ready for a few minutes of silence before the heavens broke loose.

At 11:00, Nathaniel came back downstairs wondering when the storm was coming.  Having been glued to the computer screen, I announced, almost in shock myself, that it had already come and gone.  There would be no tempest, no cracking of electricity across the sky, no hail.  It was done.  He was joyous in his announcement that we were safe and went off to his room, content to fall asleep.

Why the storm did not even touch us is beyond me.  It's like there was a bubble around our little area and we were kept safe in spite of all the downed trees and devastated houses across other parts of the state.  What I do now is that my children knew it might be coming and, once they knew Richard and I were keeping an eye, felt content to go on with their lives.  And, once the storm officially passed over us, they were all asleep within 10 minutes.

This past week has been a time of great retrospection for me.  I could learn a great deal from my children.  They were aware of the possibility of danger, and they wanted to be sure they were prepared for it, but once they knew there was nothing they could do until the time arrived, they were at peace.  They saw the fear they might have to face, but they chose to not let it consume their thoughts in the mean time. 

How often am I aware of some difficulty on the horizon and, instead of responding like my children, spend the rest of the time until the imminent crisis worrying about it, tossing and turning, fretting, and losing sleep over it?  How often have things resolved themselves before the expected storm?  How often had it grown stronger in my mind than it really was in life?  How much time have I wasted fretting over something that was beyond my control instead of enjoying the free time I have been given?

Yes, sometimes storms come.  Sometimes they are doozies.  Some day one may even come that takes my life, as one did so many this past week.  But I hope that in the mean time, I will live my life as my children do, aware of the possibilities, and preparing for the probabilities, but not neglecting to live joyfully here and now.