The house was full of people; a group brought in from a cookout by the roll of thunder. As the adults conversed downstairs, children of all ages played above. The storm grew louder along with the laughter and squeals from inside.
The laughter was severed when a bolt of lightning struck so close we could smell the smoke.
A large tree in our yard had been struck; enough to kill it, but not enough to bring the mighty poplar down. At the base of the tree, buried just below the surface, lay the newly installed underground dog fence. The lightning bolt was fierce enough to travel through the wire conductor right up to our detached garage and blow the wiring off the wall. Such fury left all of the electrical outlets blown and enough might to leave a dent in the garage door from the electrical box being flung across the room.
Such power. Such destruction.
But it could have been so much worse.
My home was overflowing with children and parents. We were immediately grateful for the protection of human lives. We even laughed about the giant limbs that had narrowly missed our house.
But our laughter turned to frustration as we learned how much it would cost to have the now ravaged trees removed and the wiring replaced. Grateful for lives spared. Despaired over the financial burden.
This was not the only storm we had faced within the year. Eight months earlier we had faced a different kind of storm that had brought us to our knees, literally. My husband had been involved in a hunting accident. Reconstructive surgeries and months of rehabilitation had left us worn out, both physically and financially.
Looking back, I know in my heart of hearts that there are much worse storms that the human race faces on a daily basis. To the cancer survivor, the parent who longs to hold an unborn child, or the broken hearted, this story may seem trivial. But this is my journey. My difficult road.
To be continued...