It’s been thundering all day long. The weirdest was when the sun was shining and yet … thunder. The storms are moving through, we’ve had rain and wind and thunder. Lots of excitement.
Do you love storms as much as I do?
My father was mostly deaf throughout his young life. In second grade the teacher thought he was severely limited, but then Grandma asked her to put him in the second row. All of a sudden, he became successful when he could finally hear what the teacher was saying. He believed his deafness helped him as an athlete because he didn’t hear the noises around him and could focus. However, he remembered with great embarrassment a seminary professor correcting the phrase – “taking it for granite.” He’d never heard it correctly.
But since he was mostly deaf when we were children, he wasn’t afraid of the crazy storms that came through. That meant that he was able to be relaxed as we headed for the basement. I’ll be honest, it felt like we spent a lot of time in the basement, though. Mom and Dad turned it into a fun experience for us with cots and games and everybody all together.
Dad loved watching the storms, a trait which all of us picked up over the years. There’s something so exciting about the power of nature raging around you … as long as you’re safe.
He built the cabin where I write, nestled in against a hillside and down in a valley. Even in the years of me heading for the basement, I’ve never felt as safe as I do here. And I love to watch the storms pass overhead.
In the late 1960s, a doctor talked to my father about his deafness, sure that it could be fixed. Another doctor at the University of Iowa had been successful with a new technique. Dad was in his mid-30s when he received an amazing gift of hearing.
Not long after returning home from surgery, he woke Mom in a panic in the middle of the night. It was time to gather all of us and rush to the basement. A terrible storm was raging outside. Bleary-eyed and confused, she tried to figure out what was going on. Then it hit her, Dad had never heard the wind.
I think about his story often when I hear a storm rage outside. How much he loved the power behind the storm and yet for many years, he barely understood the depth of it.
The storm is passing as I finish writing this, the thunder moving further off into the distance. More storms may yet come through tonight, but I’ll be tucked safely inside with three kitties.
What about you? Do you love storms? What’s your favorite thing about them?