I had a little wake up call this morning around 4am...the hammer of Thor apparently smacking down upon the land with powerful fury. The hub was already awake, having a disrupted sleep from the happy juice they gave him for his injection. I was awaiting the sound of a pocket door slamming open and a 9 year old storm hater leaping to our bed in a single bound. Nothing. So while I tried to slow my heart back down to sleeping level again, the storm raged on until a scared girl arrived about 10 minutes later. I was actually impressed she had slept through as much as she had. The thunder and lightening were relentless and we laid in the bed wondering, as we do with every major monsoony-like storm, whether the basement was flooding or if the puppy was afraid. You know, normal homeowner parent kind of thoughts. G moved her oven-like self over to be right up on top of me, snoozing peacefully having found refuge from the storm.
I can remember those days myself, running down the hall to my parents' room when the sound of rain on the skylights went from a soothing and hypnotic pitter patter to a machine gun-esque hammering. The thunder that seemed to crack right in the middle of your chest and nothing but hugs from your parents would make it go away. I can still feel my body calming down as I think about the smell of their pillows, the light breathing of my mother and funny snore of my father, the parental barrier that protected me from all harms...and thunder. It is a special honor, although exhausting, to be that comfort like my parents were for me. While the lack of sleep found me dragging this afternoon, I would do it all again tonight. But I really hope it will stay dry. We all need a rest.
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