Wednesday, May 5, 2010


Today, I thought I'd post a snippet of my response to an extremely well-written article by a friend of mine.  (Which is here.)  I thought I'd just write about my original experience (To read more on it, go here.), but I don't think I'll be able to do it twice.  It was hard enough the first time, so I'll just re-post that. 


I too, used to LOVE rain, and especially thunderstorms. Growing up in South Texas, I rarely saw either, so they were both special and appreciated when they did happen. In May of 1997 Central Texas experienced a REALLY bad tornado "season". We were living just north of Austin at the time, and one of those storms came through the area where we lived while I was home alone. (I later learned it was an F3 from a storm that spawned over 20 tornadoes.) It actually went between our house and the next, knocking over the fence and doing some roof damage., but didn't quite touch down, luckily. I spent the rest of that stormy night in fear of the next siren.

To my extreme distress, the next time a storm blew up (about a week later) I was just as freaked out as I was that night. The fear during storms lessened over the next couple of years, but only slowly. When we moved to the West Coast, instead of missing the violent storms I had once so loved, I was actually relieved that they rarely if ever occurred out there.

Eventually I thought I was over it, but then we moved back eastward (late 2004). Our first summer here in Ontario, I basically went through it all over again. As if it had just happened. I thought I'd be scared of thunderstorms for the rest of my life at that point. Luckily, I was wrong, and I did eventually get more or less over it.

At this point in my life, I can sit on the porch and enjoy a good thunder and lightning storm. I can smile and go back to sleep when I hear hard rain on the window pane. But if I'm out and about during stormy weather, I probably watch the skies more than most.


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