While the kids and I were at the ball field, a line of low angry clouds marched boldly toward us from the west. I cautiously kept one eye on my iPhone weather application while my other eye was shooting the umpire silent messages to call the game. Hearing a low rumble of thunder, I ordered the girls to the car and was just about to don my crazy mom mask to run out on the field and bodily remove Ethan from the game when the umps called the game.
|This is an actual picture of the sky from our area posted to a friends FB page.|
"Guys. It's OK. When I stop the car and open the side door, just run for the house. I will grab Ellerie."
Then, I stopped the car, turned around, and gave them my best smile, "Ok? It will be fun."
The kiddies didn't smile back, and when I opened that side door and the wind rushed in . . . the car noticeably rocked and the panic set in.
And we ran. As sheets of rain came at us sideways, we ran the 50 feet to the house and made it inside safely.
I herded the kids into the basement with flashlights in tow, started the kids on a game, and turned on the TV.
Then I called hubs.
He was on the highway on his way home from golf.
"I'm OK hon. I have never seen the sky so black though. It is eerie. I am by the mall. I should be home in 20 minutes . . ." his voice trailed off.
"Paul? Are you still there? "
I had lost the call.
Phone in hand, I turned my attention back to the TV, and there on the news was the weather man showing pictures of the weather camera at the mall.
Talking about the roof being blow off the hamburger joint at the mall.
Talking about the roof being blow off the Penney's store.
Talking about the traffic on the highway being stopped.
I clutched at my throat because suddenly, my necklace felt 3 inches too tight. I turned my phone over in my hand and dialed hubs' number.
And then I heard hubs' voice on his voice mail.
"Shit," I whispered. I turned off the TV.
"Mom? Are you OK?" Abs questioned.
I smiled weakly. "Yep. I'll be right back."
I crept up the stairs, walked to the dark dining room, sat down and dialed again.
With shaking hands, I pushed the end call button.
And then I sat in the dark . . . and cried.
My thoughts went to all those dark places that thoughts should never go. What ifs marched through my thoughts as my heart raced and my hands shook.
And I cried.
And as I cried, I prayed.
I prayed for Paul and his safety.
I prayed for everyone in the storm's path.
I prayed for strength.
Finally, my hand shook with vibrations from my phone, and on the other end was the sweetest voice I have ever heard.
"Babe? I'm OK," hubs said.
And I cried.
With big heaving gulps, I cried.
|Rainbow after the storm.|
I am blessed.
**************End note . . . we are all OK and damages are minor in our area. Today, I feel incredibly blessed, and I continue to pray for those that have been affected by these storms.*********************
I am linking to Shell's Things I Can't Say . . . because although I could write this, I could not speak this or explain this without losing it.