Just as powerful as I’d imagined
I apologise in advance if I appear to be a bit on edge tonight. It’s because about two hours ago, we had another thunderstorm. Rob was sleeping, because he has night shift this week, but I don’t think it would have made much of a difference if he had been sitting right beside me because I would have panicked anyway, and panic I did.
It came out of nowhere. All of a sudden a nearly non-existent breeze turned into some hey-I’m-here-to-uproot-some-trees kind of wind. I ran to the back of the house to close the door, which was open because it was really hot today. Then the rain, lightning and thunder came. I ran to the television and turned it off, because in my paranoid mind a turned on television attracts lightning, like “Hey you sexy lightning you, how ’bout we get together and create some serious electricity?” Then I ran upstairs to wake Rob, and he gave me this look as if to say, “Will you get a grip? I don’t care if a tree comes flying into the house, I’m trying to get some sleep here.” I ran back downstairs and lit a smoke, because… what else can you do?
And then… I cried. I cried like a little girl and cursed Rob for NOT BEING THE HERO YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE AND MAKING IT STOP. He came sauntering into the room a little later, like nothing had happened and I didn’t just nearly have a nervous breakdown. Two thunderstorms in one month is too much. I told him that he would not be allowed to leave the house to go to work in an hour if the storm hadn’t passed by then and gave him a serious look suggesting that I would lock all the doors and swallow all three sets of keys if I had to. All he did was make fun of me and then it hit me:
It could only be my grandmother, my dearest grandmother, sitting on her throne up there in heaven (and believe me, she is, because she deserves nothing less), sending this storm our way exactly six months after her death, just to remind us that even though she’s not here anymore, she’s still here. That’s just how powerful I’d imagined she’d be in her heaven. It’s probably too late to start believing that there’s a heaven for me, but it turns out that it’s not too late to start believing that that’s exactly where she is.
And that’s not all. This afternoon, whilst walking around in the garden, looking at all the pretty flowers, I noticed that new foxgloves are sprouting up, when before there was just the sad-looking pair that we planted months ago. The foxgloves that I insisted we have in our garden in honour of my grandmother because her garden used to be full of them, suddenly came out of the ground as if to pay respect to my grandmother, who then sent a thunderstorm with potential to destroy every last one of them. Just because she can now.
Nanda
If you’re very scared of thunderstorms, I can understand that must’ve been very frightening especially when Rob didn’t give you the support you wanted at that moment. And the weather has indeed been very bad lately - one moment the sun is shining and the next there’s a thunderstorm. It’s crazy. I hope you’re alright.