Thursday, April 28, 2011


This morning I cried as I watched the devastation from the tornadoes that stirred up the South as easily as I stir up a bowl of SpaghettiOs.  (Um, I haven't had SpaghettiOs in a while because they taste like barf, but for some reason that's what came to mind.)  I have always been terrified of tornadoes, much more so than hurricanes.  Probably because living in the Midwest leaves little to no chance of a hurricane.  But also because tornadoes just HIT, whenever they want, with barely any warning.  I don't know if it's like this all over the country, but the first Tuesday of every month at 10:00, the tornado sirens go off as a test.  I have always been afraid that one day it won't be a test, but I'll just think it's a test.  And then what, I ask you?

My fear started early in life.  Tornado drills in elementary school, while less scary than fire drills because they weren't nearly as loud (in first grade, my incredible teacher, Ms. Norton, always let me go first in line during a fire drill, but not first so I had to hold the door for everyone else.  I'm not proud.), were still freaky.  Sitting with your head between your knees while being forced to remain completely silent was sobering for a six year-old (was sobering the right word to use?  For a six year-old?).  It never helped that when a horrible storm was a-brewin', my dad was the guy sitting with the front door open and the video camera rolling.  I was already in the basement with the radio tuned in.  Not that any of the adults in my house told me I needed to be prepared.  I was always just prepared.  Unless, of course, my stomach hurt so much from irritable bowel syndrome that I was in the bathroom next to the basement door.  The possibility of missing the basement during the tornado only worsened the IBS, making for a very stressed-out kid.  Thank God I was never actually in a tornado.  I will never live in a building without a basement.

My heart and hope go out to all of the people who lost their homes or worse during this most recent bout of tornadoes. 


Ronni said...

Oh my God, you sound so much like me during storms. My parents would be on the couch like "yes, we know there's a tornado warning for our county." I'd be running around, in hysterics, grabbing my teddy bear, a radio, a flashlight, and blanket. They'd tell me to sit down and be quiet. Yes, and watch the warnings crawl across the TV screen. Really helpful.

I used to have terrible panic attacks when storms came along (but that was tied to something else that came out in therapy--long story!), but now I'm pretty OK. I don't like loud thunder or a lot of lightning still. And some of the pictures I saw yesterday made me immediately start hyperventilating, so it's obviously not all gone from me yet.

In other news, I ate Spaghetti-Os for lunch yesterday (sprinkle some parmesan cheese on them--it'll change your world!) AND I am reading Into the Wild Nerd Yonder! :)

Julie H said...

Wow, Ronni, isn't that interesting? And sad that we were so scared of these storms. Understandably so, no? I still don't know about the Os. I can taste them right now...