Hubby used to love big storms. He was a science teacher so they fascinated him on a scientific level but also on a visceral level as well. We have had some quite horrific storms in my part of the country lately; the latest killed several folks in Arkansas in fact.
A few weeks ago, we had a bad storm in our home town with two tornados and baseball sized hail. The sirens sounded for about 45 minutes. It caused a lot of damage in our town; I was fortunate - I live on the side of town that just got heavy rains, thunder and lightening and some pebble-sized hail.
I enjoy storms as well. I opened the screen door and went out on the balcony and watched. But such events make me sad now because of the memory of how much Hubby would have loved this. My first thought is always, "Oh, poor ---, he would have loved this so and he is missing it all."
We have a flat roof on our house and I remember that Hubby would go up there in bad storms and clear off the roof and make sure the drains were not clogged. There was something about being up there in the pouring rain and strong wind that made him so happy - he would come back inside with a big grin on his face asking for a dry towel...
Oh you are missing this wonderful storm! Oh, you are missing your oldest son being inducted into National Junior Honor Society and National Junior Thespians this week. Oh, you missed your youngest son getting his black belt. Oh, you missed him singing a beautiful solo at the jazz festival this weekend.
Oh...how...sad....
I heard a fly buzz when I died;
The stillness round my form
Was like the stillness in the air
Between the heaves of storm. --- Emily Dickinson
