I have a pattern of writing and then retreating. We’ve talked about this. Mostly, I keep to myself the THING that happened to rock my little boat and pull me back out with the tide. Usually, it’s the kind of life stuff that would just be a drag for others to read. It’s better to tend to that stuff behind the scenes and come out belting the show tunes. Shove it in the closet and gussy up, gal. The show must go on.
This I can share.
Would you believe that lightning hit our house? Would you believe that as an afternoon shower began to break apart and drift away, while the skies were partly cloud covered and only a drizzle of rain remained, one lone powerful bolt of lightning split the skies in our county and made a direct hit with our house? A bolt so powerful that someone reported the ground shook a mile away. A bolt of power that elicited the screams of our neighbor’s three children– ages 12, 10, and 8– along with the screams of my own. A bolt that hastened six fire engines and seventeen firemen to our home in the span of 9 minutes and beckoned the neighbors our way.
I mean, would you believe it?
That a lightening bolt would act as a bullet and shoot through our roof, cracking our chimney, as it made its way through our home via our electrical wires? That it would then blow out an interior wall while simultaneously igniting an electrical fire as it continued to ravage our wiring until finally blowing out both the electrical panel in our garage and the cable wiring on the street? Would you believe that our youngest daughter, the one we adopted nearly two years ago, was the only person in the room where the main action took place? That minutes before the lightning struck she had stood just inches from where the wall exploded and the fire broke out? That she had moved to sit on our sofa across the room right before the lightning struck? That the sofa was the ONLY place in the entire room untouched by debris? Broken glass and ash were in front of the sofa and behind, they covered the other seating in the room, but the sofa remained unharmed.
I mean, WOULD YOU BELIEVE IT?
Because who does this stuff happen to, really?
The glory of it all is we are all safe and we still have a home. No matter the stress of fire reports, insurance claims, broken appliances and mounting home repairs; at the end of the day, we still have a home with a family nestled within. For this, we are grateful.
To my American friends: Happy Independence Day!
To my beautiful mom: Happy Birthday!! Oh, how I love you.
When asked for my husband’s phone number– the evening of the lightning strike– in my shock, I rattled off one of my mom’s old phone number that she had held for years. Apparently, in an emergency, my mind races off to my mama, still.