Roll of Thunder

A few years ago Mac Daddy and I had a rare date night. We hired a favorite neighborhood boy to watch Bird and Deal. He was a fantastic sitter who played Wii with the boys, tossed a football in the yard, and took them to play mini golf. He had younger siblings and knew to balance screen time with outdoor time. He’s off at college now, and we miss him. Anyway, on this particular night our sitter had tuckered out our boys. Mac Daddy and I came home to caution tape strung around the neighbor’s yard and gigantic tree limbs strewn haphazardly in the street and lawn. Our sitter was freaking out a bit because he heard a crash and a parade of sirens. The boys, amply worm out, hadn’t woken up at all. The sitter ran outside and hurried in again to check on the boys. He likely danced in a cadence of panic waiting for us to get home.

I don’t know the details, but it turns out that a particularly angry Thor was beating his chest and lighting up the skies in a fury that night. Lightning struck the neighbor’s house, hitting their teenage daughter as she slept in her bed. I can’t make this stuff up. She was burned but safe, and rightly shaken, of course. Our sitter said the sound boomed unlike anything he ever heard. After hearing his account and listening to our neighbors recount the night, we are amazed the children didn’t stir.

Deal is particularly sensitive so we tried to shield him from the news. We explained away the fallen tree limbs but made no mention of the lightning striking the neighbor girl he so enjoyed playing with when he was toddling about in his chubby baby days. Alas, the incident was the talk of the street so there was no shrouding our sensitive son in the parental cape of safety. He overheard the news. He was frightened. What elementary age kid wouldn’t be? I mean, his neighbor, just yards away from his own bedroom, was struck by lightning. I’ll be honest, it still freaks me out. It has taken a lot of assurance to make him feel safe in storms, even now.

And so today, amidst the threat of Biblical proportion thunder storms and epic tornadoes that are to haunt us for two days, my son is worried. I must admit, I too am a tish scared. I’ve turned off the news and have forced myself to steer clear of the hype (not to minimize the coverage and gravity of the situation). All safety provisions are in place. We have a basement. I’m not letting on my trepidation here. Deal would crumble if he knew how vulnerable I feel. We’ll hunker down together tonight if we must. For all I know, the boys will be as pooped as they were the night of our neighbor’s freak lightning strike. That one fateful night that has led to a dozen frightful nights…

Stay safe, friends!