It's not something I'm proud of, and I certainly don't want it to affect Emmie some day.
A little less than two weeks ago, the meteorologists started cautioning that we were going to get awful, unimaginably bad storms. Or so they made it seem. In the wake of the nightmare tornadoes in Joplin, Missouri in 2011 and Oklahoma this year, I know they want us to be prepared. But it scared the shit out of me.
The morning of the now-infamous derecho, I checked my phone. This is the tweet I saw:
Potential for widespread significant weather w/ t-storms this afternoon. Please RT to get the message out! #staysafe http://t.co/3cgYpdZ93KThat message, "#staysafe", got my heart racing. Bruce was already at work, and the thought of being home alone with the baby and my fear all day was too much for me. I didn't want to be alone; being around people would quell my overactive imagination. I texted a friend, but he didn't answer. There was only one other person I knew who would be home all day.
— NWS Chicago (@NWSChicago) June 12, 2013
Bruce's dad.
I knew he wouldn't mind if we came over; in fact, he'd be happy to see Emmie. Plus, he cares so little about weather-related disaster that he would be a good balance for me. With the weather people blowing up the media, threatening danger later from Mother Nature, I decided to go for it while it was still calm outside. When Emmie woke up, I gave her some cereal, dressed her, packed a full diaper bag, and put her in the car. Off we went back to the in-laws' house.
Though Bruce was supportive, he did say over the phone at one point, "I can't believe we bought a house with a nice, finished basement for you to go in and you're leaving to spend time with my dad." I couldn't believe it, either.
When we got there, Dad couldn't have been more welcoming. We sat around in the living room, chatting all day long, while Emmie watched Bubble Guppies and Sesame Street and messed up their non-babyproofed house, just like the old days. Bruce's mom came home at lunch and held Emmie in her lap almost the whole time. I could tell that both grandparents were thrilled to have her back.
Bruce met us there when he got off work. By that time, the National Weather Service had upgraded their predictions to the rare "high risk" storm category. Bruce's mom came home earlier than her normal 5 o'clock - they decided to close the office early based on the hullabaloo. Soon after, the severe weather notifications started ringing my phone 'off the hook.' Then the sirens went off. We all rushed down to the basement.
Sitting on the cold, concrete floor, surrounded by my father-in-law's fishing equipment, we all tried to make the best of the situation. Bruce's mom got chairs and kept the conversation flowing. I felt panicky, but her chatter made the situation feel more normal. After a while, the warning expired and we went back upstairs.
Storms continued to roll through the evening, but they never got that bad. Late that night, we put a sleepy daughter in the car and went home. It had been way worse by our house. We passed downed trees on the road. A branch had come down on our fence, prying it apart from the post. Emmie's playhouse was on its side. Allegedly there was a tornado a few miles away. I was so, so glad that we weathered the storm at Bruce's parents' house. Looking back on the experience, I can't believe how much has changed in a few short months. I went from - I hate to admit it - sometimes loathing living at that house to feeling relieved to be there. The interaction between Bruce's dad and I wasn't strained or awkward in the least. We actually laughed and had some good talks. I think for him, as well as me, the distance made our hearts grow fonder again. I chose to be in his company, after a year of sulking and hiding out in my husband's teenage bedroom.
This is so cheesy, but the storm somehow managed to mend our fences.
The weather's been fine until today, though there weren't any major red flags from the meteorologists. They said we could get some storms, but it didn't seem too ominous. Suddenly, while Emmie and I were playing in the basement and Bruce was cooking dinner upstairs, my phone alerted me of a severe thunderstorm warning. "This storm will be dangerous!" It practically yelled at me. "80 mph winds! Damage to houses expected! This could become a tornado! Take cover now!" It said it would hit our town in 20 minutes. Then the sirens went off.
Bruce quickly turned off the oven and hurried downstairs. Our basement is finished, but in the back, there are two doors to unfinished storage areas. One, nearest the sump pump, has no windows. The walls are covered in cedar plywood, and there is a sturdy wood shelving system, spacious enough to store large moving boxes, about four feet off the floor. They always say to get under something like a workbench to stay the safest, and this is mighty solid. Bruce moved some boxes out off the top of it, and we put the baby underneath. We crawled in after her. Minnie the cat stayed still in the room with us. Twenty long minutes went by, with me obsessively checking my phone. There were tweets that said a tornado was confirmed, that it was heading straight for our town. The lights started flickering. We could hear objects moving around outside. We pulled a comforter over us and attempted to cover Emmie with our bodies.
Here's the thing. That was pretty damn scary. But I never got seriously panicky! We did the best we could, and all we could do was ride it out. Just a minute until the warning would expire, I read that the tornado threat had diminished greatly. We tossed aside the comforter and opened the door to the storage room. After a few minutes, Bruce went upstairs to check out the damage. Nothing was amiss. A little while later, the weather service cancelled the severe thunderstorm watch for the night. All was calm again.
I mentally survived my first bad weather experience here at home. That doesn't mean that I'm in the clear, and I know I need to deal with my fear on a deeper level. But I got through it. In our last rental townhouse, we had to go under the stairs during tornado warnings. It was so claustrophobic. I would be miserable just thinking about the next bad time. But here, I'll know I managed to keep it together once already.
My hope is that in this new home, in this new life we are beginning, I can eventually learn to feel safe. To keep moving forward, even though I'll always have a place to go back to.
No comments:
Post a Comment