Mississippi

It’s nineteen sixty-eight. My mother calls me to come quickly out to the front porch.

I don’t want to go because everyone else is already out there and I know what’s coming.

I can smell it in the air.

Out on the porch, I take my place with my back to the wall, right next to the door in case I need to slip inside.

I’m like that guy in the movie who chooses his seat based on the possibility that he may need to make a quick escape.

My mother always reveled in thunderstorms. Something about the chaos and danger or just the raw power of nature must have appealed to her. It was something she seemed to want to share whenever the chance presented itself.

Maybe they had a lot of thunderstorms in North Dakota where she grew up. I don’t know.

But whenever a thunderstorm was headed our way, there she’d be, calling us all to come out on the porch and watch it with her like it was fireworks on the Fourth of July.

Our porch faced the west, directly towards Lake Erie which was only about fifteen miles away as the crow flies, or more precisely, as the thunderstorm rolls.

We’d watch as the darkness came closer and closer, count our Mississippis after each flash of lightening to gauge how close the storm was getting–or in my case, how far away it still was.

When it got to be just a few Mississippis, I’d slip into the house, kneel on the couch, and watch from the front window.

Apparently, total immersion therapy doesn’t work on me.

~~~

I woke this morning to the sound of thunder outside my window. The rain was coming down hard.

A flash of lightening–eight Mississippis before the thunder.

I’m sixty-four years old and still counting Mississippis, but eight is not a bad number.

I still don’t like thunderstorms. They’re loud and unpredictable.

I like a good, soft, soaking rain. No thunder. No lightening. No danger.

Here in Georgia, a thunderstorm can turn into a tornado in a heartbeat.

But they can also make me feel close to my mom.

She’ll be spending her ninety-eighth birthday this Friday in heaven, but today, she came down to spend some time with me.

Thanks mom for being there when I woke up, for staying inside, and for hanging out with me until the storm passed.

No Mississippis required.

~~~