Bed shaking rumble. Flickering light washes my face and torments my closed eyes. Ker-BOOM! I give up and squint a sleepy eyeball at the hazy darkness. Another lightning flash highlights edges and vacant space. Ah, a thunderstorm is passing through.
When I was a child my grandmother would wake me and make me sit up with her whenever a thunderstorm hit our area. She was convinced we were moments away from a tornado that would rip apart her house and leave us squashed bits of flesh. Or so it seemed. Her fear became ingrained in me and it was years before I could watch a storm and enjoy the wonders of nature. Now it is one of my favorite things.
As the storm continued to scratch at our bedroom windows I heard my husband getting ready for work. “Come back to bed and let’s enjoy the moment,” I whispered. He sat on the bed and kissed me softly. “I can’t today.” But we both knew the storm wasn’t the only thing feeling restless. It was the best part of my day.