I love a good storm. The thunder rolling, the lightning streaking across the sky, the wind blowing, and the rain pouring down, all appeal to something deep inside of me. My grandma never understood this part of me. She would never admit it, but she was a worrier where the weather was concerned. She could never see how I loved to sit and watch a storm roll in or why I would want to run through the rain.
As a child, I remember Grandma always worrying about the weather. She would fret if the weather was going to be even a little bit bad. She would stay home from running errands if it was rainy or windy. We would stay inside and play if we were at her house during a storm.
As an adult, it was all too clear to me that my grandma feared storms. If I would drive to her house in the rain she would worry about me driving home and try to convince me to stay until the rain had stopped and it wasn't just because she wanted the pleasure of my company. She just worried that I would not be able to see in the rain or that the roads would flood.
When I moved across the country, my grandma would call me about the weather. We had moved to the East Coast and no matter where we lived she could not remember. She would see bad weather on the East Coast and worry that it was affecting us. A storm could be 500 miles away and she would be sure it was going to get us.
Oftentimes, my phone would ring and my grandmother would call with news about the weather that I had not seen yet. Rarely were these weather systems going to be anywhere near us.
If I did not answer the phone she would leave me voice mails. Many times over the years I would have a voicemail saying "Did you see that storm out there? Is it coming near you? Are you going to have a hurricane?" If I didn't call her back within 12 hours or so she would call again, sometimes early, like the crack of dawn.
If I still didn't answer she would call my parents, also at the crack of dawn. Then, my mom would call me and say "You MUST call your grandma. She is worried about the weather again." I would call her back and tell her we were fine. Thankfully, we were always fine.
After all the years of laughing about those calls, who knew how much I would miss those calls and questions like "How's the weather?" Thankfully, my aunt has picked up the slack and texts me to ask how the weather is and if we are okay.
Oftentimes, my phone would ring and my grandmother would call with news about the weather that I had not seen yet. Rarely were these weather systems going to be anywhere near us.
If I did not answer the phone she would leave me voice mails. Many times over the years I would have a voicemail saying "Did you see that storm out there? Is it coming near you? Are you going to have a hurricane?" If I didn't call her back within 12 hours or so she would call again, sometimes early, like the crack of dawn.
If I still didn't answer she would call my parents, also at the crack of dawn. Then, my mom would call me and say "You MUST call your grandma. She is worried about the weather again." I would call her back and tell her we were fine. Thankfully, we were always fine.
After all the years of laughing about those calls, who knew how much I would miss those calls and questions like "How's the weather?" Thankfully, my aunt has picked up the slack and texts me to ask how the weather is and if we are okay.
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