The Raging Calm

The booming thunder roused me from my sleep. The reverberations shook the house, as if an earthquake were tearing its way through. I lay wide-eyed staring up at the ceiling. Nothing calmed me more than a tumultuous thunderstorm, even if it did wake me from much needed sleep. Lightning flashed through the windows for a brief second and filled the room like a dance floor at a rave. I counted the seconds.

One one thousand

Two one thousand

Three one thousand

Thunder rolled through the house again. A soothing calm ran into my bones that would help me relax back into my slumber. As I closed my eyes, I thought of the many times before these storms only lasted a few minutes, maybe an hour at best. Texas was not known for strong thunderstorms that lasted as long as I wished they would: forever. The darkness that my closed eyes introduced suddenly was replaced with light. I counted again.

One one thousand

Two one thousand

A larger boom than before, and getting closer. The raindrops that were initially light slaps against the roof started to become heavy beats of erratic rainfall. Aside from the thunder, rain was the second most peaceful part of a thunderstorm. Most of the time I would sit at the window and watch the rain, but right now I just wanted to listen with my eyes closed. Lightening flashed again, and so I counted.

One one thousa…

A thunderous roar emitted overhead, rain falling heavier than before. Opening my eyes, I roll over and peer through the window. Nothing could be seen but the torrential downpour of rain outside, along with perhaps the swaying of a lone tree in the backyard. That tree has seen a lot, and in a recent storm lost a limb nearly right over the house. Lightning filled my vision of the backyard and immediate thunder filled my ears.

This was no normal passing storm. This was a storm the likes of which I loved the most: wild and unbridled. To me, a storm of this magnitude was akin to seeing an eclipse; such occurrences only happened once or twice a year. The rainfall, never ceasing, began to create rhythms of sound against the roof and glass windowpane. I could do nothing but become transfixed on the storm that took over not only my hearing and vision, but seemingly me entire being.

It was then that the lightning struck through and into my room, tearing a hole the size of a trampoline through the roof. Rain flooded into the room. All I could do was stare.

Was this really happening? Or was I simply dreaming? I could feel the heavy raindrops fall onto my bed, soaking my sheets. Yet I hadn’t moved. I could feel the cold dampness start to creep into my bones. Surely this was real. There couldn’t be any other explanation, for a dream does not provide the same sensation as this.

I’ve never had lightning strike near me. When I was a child, I would see lightning in the sky far away when I watched the horizon. But that was different, that was far away. I would always avoid sitting under trees during a storm for fear of being shocked by lightning. I wouldn’t swim in the pool, and would go inside during a storm when playing sports. I would even avoid tying a key to a kite, which I really wanted to do if you can believe it. But this sensation of having lightning strike so close was a new one, and a thrilling one.

The rain was not letting up, and the lightning that filled the sky was not moving the storm away either. Just my luck, a storm would last so long with a gaping hole in my roof. It was at this point I decided to get up and take action. I moved into the hallway and looked for something, anything I could think of to stop the water from flooding my house. But what could I do? Realistically I already knew the answer, it was why it took me so long to get up to begin with: Nothing. There’s nothing I can do now but wait for the storm to pass.

I went to the fridge to see what I could make to eat. Bits and pieces of various food items strewn my fridge - nothing like what it looked like when I lived with the children. Their fridge is so full of food compared to this. Alas, I am alone and do not need as much. I grabbed for an apple and closed the fridge. The storm continued. I reached for my phone to see if I could get an image of the radar to know how long this would last when I realized I had left it next to my bed.

Re-entering my room, I sloshed my way to the side table as the rain pelted me from above. The carpet was soaking wet, and my drum set was all but ruined. Lucky for me, I had finished putting my clothes away the night before instead of leaving them on my bed like they had been for the past two days. My phone sat undisturbed on the side table, out of the range of the hole in the ceiling and still dry. Tapping on the screen, I looked at the weather radar. Orange filled the screen for miles around. The next few hours showed storms in my area and they were not letting up. Under normal conditions, I might want to take action to prevent further rainfall entering the home.

I walked around the house, lightning and thunder filling my vision and hearing. I looked for anything that might be used to cover the gigantic hole in my roof. Though I found nothing. It was up to me to call my insurance company and describe what happened. The thought seemed so placid, so adult that I couldn’t believe it and I laughed a little. All the while, water started to enter the main hallway and flow out into the rest of the house. The streams of water running from the bedroom caught my eye and put me into another daze. How could this have happened? What are the odds?

I moved back to my bedroom and went to the closet to get dressed in the most sensible outfit I could for the situation. My socks were stored above what was apparently becoming sea level. I moved back to the living room and slipped on my socks and shoes, both thankfully dry. Grabbing a light jacket and my keys, I headed for the car. I didn’t even bother locking the front door, for there will have been nothing left for me on my return.

And even in all of this, the thunderstorm still had such a mesmerizing calm hold over me. Perhaps it was just the weather, or perhaps it was something more. But certainly, this doesn’t change the fact that thunderstorms are one of my favorite weather conditions aside from snow, neither of which I prefer to drive in, however.