Thunderstorms

The loud crack of thunder jolts me awake. I peer into darkness, a bit disoriented. Taking a moment to center myself, I take in my surroundings and realize I am back at home, in my makeshift basement apartment. It is pitch black, meaning we must be without power. No power also explains me being freezing cold. Shivering, I gather my warmest blanket around my shoulders and walk towards the stairwell with one arm ahead of me.

Upstairs, it is eerie quiet and I conclude my mother is out with her friends. Our family dog walks up to me and nudges my leg. She is the sweetest and actually enjoys having the house to herself, I think. Together we walk towards the front door and step onto the small porch to see what is going on. There is still some light left to the sky, telling me it is not as late as I feel it should be. Another loud clap of thunder sounds out across the sky and our pup nuzzles in closer to me. I sit down and breathe in the rainy fresh air, immediately sending me back in time to my younger days.

The strings pull taught and the bench creaks a bit under the weight of my little body being set down by my father. He then joins me and pushes us back to get the swing going. My little fingers wrap around his large, calloused hand. We swing quietly for a minute before there is a loud echo of thunder.

"It's almost here, won't be long now." My daddy's voice whispers to me.

My whole body is on high alert. I am eager to smell the rain, see the lightening and feel the thunder. He chuckles as my head goes left to right and back again. My baby sister is scared of the thunder, but I invite it to come. My older sisters do not have the patience to sit and watch something as simple as raindrops cascading down, but I would do it a thousand times, if my father was always right there beside me.

Another louder clap of thunder sounds out and I scooch just a bit closer to him. The wind picks up and I get a chill. The sky begins to darken more. Shadows from the trees disappear as the clouds take over the summer sunshine. One drop hits the railing, then another on the porch. It seems there are only ever one or two that you see clearly before the sky opens and they all pour down, blending together.

The smell sneaks into my nose and I breath deeper. This is the best part, if you ask me. I smell the dirt, an earthly scent I have always enjoyed. Mixed into that is the freshness of the raindrops. The sweetness of the grass adds another level. This scent, my favorite by far, relaxes me and reminds me of the beauty of nature.

"Oh, look!" My father's left hand shoots up and he points to my right where a bolt of lightening has just disappeared. They are always there and gone so fast, I rarely see them in their fullest, most vibrant form.

I jump from the swing and go to the railing. Here I can feel the rain on my hands and face. It makes me feel oddly alive. My father joins me and reminds me, "Just a few more minutes and then we have to get you up to bed, kiddo." I huff in annoyance.

Another rumble of thunder calls out and pulls me back to reality. I smile to myself. For a long time I had not allowed myself to travel down that memory lane. It still hurts to remember the good days, the days we would watch storms and swing together. Lately, I was breaking down the wall and sneaking through. He is part of my life and he helped shape me into the person I am today. How could I try to forget him completely? It is unfair and unkind.

Because of him, I see the beauty in the clouds crying. I am calmed by the crash of thunder and lightening. I am addicted to nature's tantrums. A pluviophile if you will, and that is what he made me.