Thunderstorms

I was at my aunt’s house, my mom’s sister, with her and my mother one evening and a storm started brewing. My dad and I loved thunderstorms. We use to sit out in the front yard under a great big oak tree and watch as the storm rolled in. The tree was vast enough that it would shelter s from most of the rain, and we could look out across the sky and watch the lightning bounce off the clouds. But my dad was not there that night at my aunt’s house, and my mom was never there when my dad and I would sit out under the tree and watch the storms come in. As the thunder got louder, and the rain poured harder, the anticipation of everyone in the house grew; I looked foreword to big storms; they were fun. However as my anticipation was mounting towards excitement, my mother and Aunt’s was moving to anxiety. Their anxiety gave way to fear, and as I began to perceive that fear, I too began to feel afraid. Surely if they were afraid, then there must be something to fear. The storm grew more ferocious; the rain pounded against the roof, and the power blew out. No one was willing to leave the room to go look for candles, they were too scared, each time lightening flashed, their eyes darted around the room, and every bang of thunder made them cringe. The wind ripped around, rattling doors and shutters, making all sorts of horrible noises in the dark house. I was terrified. In the height of the storm, and the height of my fear, I picked up a phone and called my dad. Fortunately the phone lines were still working and he answered my call. I told him there was a big storm, the wind and the thunder were so loud, the power was out, and the lightning kept flashing. “Isn’t it cool?” he asked. I replied that it was scary, I was afraid, “Why?” he asked. Why was I afraid? We had watched thunder storms together many times, worse storms than this one; I loved storms. So why was I afraid of this storm? The truth was, I was afraid because someone else was, I had not been afraid until I saw their fear. There was nothing in the storm that I feared. In that moment I learned that I did not have to think or feel a certain way simply because someone else did. I knew that there was nothing to fear, and yet I had let myself feel afraid because someone I felt was in a position of authority expressed fear. My mom and aunt stayed huddled in the basement of that house for hours. I walked upstairs, opened the front door, and watched the storm until it passed. I enjoyed the feel of the rain, the sounds of the wind and thunder, and the sight of the lightning bouncing off the clouds. They were trapped by their fear, and I almost allowed that fear to keep me trapped, but instead I experienced something beautiful.