“There was a crash of thunder, the sky shattering right above our heads.”

Last night the thunder was tremendous, dramatic. It lasted the longest time. The dogs started to shake, the first time they have reacted to the crack of thunder over the house. Nala was beside me so I put my arm around her hoping to comfort her fears. Henry jumped up and moved to inside the curl of my legs. He needed to touch me. I kept patting him. The thunder quieted then got loud again. The dogs got closer. Finally, the rumbles moved off into the distance. Nala sighed, put her head down and went to sleep. Henry stretch and went to sleep. So did I.

The rain started, but I don’t know when because the thunder drowned out every other sound. Finally, when the thunder quieted, I could hear the rain. It was still raining when I woke up. Scattered thunderstorms are predicted for today with a high in the low 80’s. The humidity is thick.

I do need dog food so I’ll be forced to get dressed and go to Agway. Beyond that I have nothing for the rest of the day. On my dance card for the week is the uke: practice Tuesday, lesson Wednesday and concerts on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday.

When I was in grammar school, I had nuns almost every other year. When I was in first grade, I thought Sister Redempta was scary. She’d whip her head around if she heard a noise. We’d stay quiet rather than incur her wrath. She used to have us fold our hands together and put them in the middle of our desks. We sat there without moving. I remember at Christmas we were having a small play. I was given a line to learn, something about the angels. I did. I was absent one day. She took my line away.

When I was older, I figured out that Sister Redempta whipped her head around because her wimple had sides so she had little peripheral vision. We could take chances knowing we could beat the speed of the wimple. That was such a revelation!

Today my mother would have celebrated her 96th birthday. She was my first thought when I woke up. I miss her every day. Sometimes I think I’ll call her then I remember. Happy Birthday!

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4 Comments on ““There was a crash of thunder, the sky shattering right above our heads.””

  1. Bob Says:

    Hi Kat,

    Thunderstorms are the atmosphere’s great temperature equalizers. The energy stored in a mature cumulonimbus cloud is equivalent to ten Hiroshima sized atomic bombs. Today’s weather is a repeat of yesterday. 🙁

    My mother would be 104 when her next birthday occurs on March 21st. My parents were married in June 1941 and then we entered WWII the following December. My father was drafted in the Spring of 1942 and he spent all of his 18 month service at Ft. Dix New Jersey. My mother had difficulty conceiving until I showed up in 1947, surprise!

    When my father was in the Army he would go to the Captain of the guard on Friday evenings and tell him, “I have to have a weekend pass because my wife’s expecting”, and he would get the pass. After a few weeks the same officer would be reassigned the Captain of the guard, and he said to my father, “What the hell is your wife expecting”? “You told me last month that she’s expecting” My father replied, “She’s expecting me”. Not only did he not get the pass, but he was demoted from a Private First Class to a plain Private. 🙂 My father was assigned as an MP, (Military Police) and a Jeep driver. He was in a Company of semi-disabled soldiers. He was medically discharged after 18 just months.

    • katry Says:

      Hi Bob,
      That thunder was as loud as I’ve remember hearing. It is no wonder the dogs were shaking.

      My parents were married in 1946. My father was 8 months old than my mother.

      My father graduated from high school when he was 16. He wanted my grandmother to sign so he could go into the service. She refused so he enlisted the day he turned 17.

      He joined the navy. His ship plied the North Atlantic. It was sunk. He was the only one saved from his side of the ship, but he was in the freezing water so long they thought he would lose both legs. He did not. He was in the hospital in Plymouth, England for a long while. He was only 18. He received the disabled vet designation but refused to use it. He said he had both his legs so he was fine. He finished his service in the US.

      • Bob Says:

        Wow! Your dad was a war hero. They were a part of what’s called, “The greatest Generation”. My father spent the rest of the war working at a plant at Newark Airport. They built many of the fighter airplanes in California and then flew them to Newark. Then, my father disassembled them, and pickled them with grease so they could be shipped by sea to England. Fighters didn’t have the range in WWII to fly across the Atlantic Ocean.

      • katry Says:

        My dad thought it a great adventure. He was only 18, still a kid. He and his buddy used to take a bicycle at the hospital and ride it downhill to the pub. Both his legs were bandaged so he held them out. He couldn’t pedal back so the hospital had to send an ambulance to get him and his friend. He never even told his parents where he was so they had to hunt him down through the Red Cross. He didn’t think it was much of a deal.

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