The sky darkens. Low rumbles follow gentle flickers of
light. The storm is still distant. My skin tingles. I hate to waste a good
storm. Today I won't have to. I race to the window to watch the show, ready to
greet this storm with all the joy I feel at its arrival. Eyes on the sky my
pulse quickens. Grinning, I wait. I give myself over to the surge of power as
the first rain drops hit. In moments the house is enveloped and rain saturates
the parched lawn. My shoulders relax. Worries fade. I draw a deep breath as my
mind drifts to the past.
My sister and I lie awake in our shared double bed on a hot
summer night. Thick, muggy air surrounds our limbs and faces, making sleep
impossible. We sneak to the window of our second story room and watch the flash
of “heat lightning” in the distance, hoping the storm will last long enough to
bring cooler air so we can sleep. We count seconds between flash and rumble,
distracted from our discomfort by the display.
Love of thunderstorms is a heritage from my mother, just as
hers was a heritage from her mother, though we came by it in different ways. As
the story goes, my great grandmother was petrified of thunder and lightning.
During a storm, as her children lay in their beds, she would pace the hallway
outside their rooms, praying the rosary. This had a profound effect on my
grandmother as a girl. Somewhere between accepting the mantle of fear and
raising her own children she vowed not to pass the damage along. Awake and
fearful if a storm came in the night, she would accept the comfort offered by
my grandfather, successfully hiding her dread from their children, the youngest
of whom would grow up to be my mom.
Shielded from her mother's anxiety my mom grew up loving thunderstorms. Just
as my grandmother absorbed her mother's fear I absorbed my mother's joy.
I sit, enthralled by the storm and enveloped, not by fear
but with gratitude...for memories that link me to a woman I loved dearly, a
girl I knew only as an old woman, and another who died before I was born. And
I’m filled with gratitude for fear strong enough to create the courage to make
a change.
