We had tornadoes Sunday. We get plenty of tornadoes in Indiana. The weatherman stated that there is no season for tornadoes here, because in Indiana, there’s been a tornado spotted in each month of the year. Even if there are more in the Spring, it can happen any time.
Sunday, we had 26.
Having grown up here, my relationship with tornadoes is basic. There is nothing I can do to stop a tornado. They’re rather indiscriminate. Taking refuge in a more secure location is an act of hope. If a tornado hits my home, I’m going to die. I figure it’ll be quick. If a tornado hits things around me, I might live, if I am enclosed by an interior space.
I do miss having a basement.
On Sunday, we climbed into the linen closet, which was not the most fun we’ve ever had. There were six storm cells around us, and the wind registered at 80mph at Lucas Oil Stadium, less than ten miles from our house, so I did my motherly duty and took the people to the closet for a bit.
In Georgia, tornado warnings were rare, but our interior space was a rather large storage room that allotted us space to play board games inside it.
When The Mister is home, I take the children to the safe space. He seems to think that in my absence, they would just go there without him, and maybe they would, but I don’t think they’d allow me to hang out on the front porch while they hunker down in the closet all by themselves.
I’ve never had the luxury of not taking the children to the safe place. Fortunately, I’m very good at hiding fear. For me, tornadoes got nothin on deployments or dangerously fevered children.
The children never panicked as much in Georgia tornadoes as they do here. Even in Georgia, we had tornadoes and hurricanes. Gah.
Sassy at age four: Do they have nornadoes here?
Me: Yes, but not very often. A tornado hasn’t touched down here in over 100 years.
Sassy: Did you see the nornado, Mama?
Me: No, I wasn’t alive a hundred years ago.
Maybe it was her innocence, but it was not a bad conversation, as we walked to school, swinging our clasped hands.
Sassy at age 11: What’s Daddy doing?
Sassy: Do they have a basement there?
Me: I’m sure. It’s a very large building.
Sassy: If there are tornadoes there, will he still come home?
Me: There probably won’t be tornadoes there.
Sassy: Will they tell him if there’s a tornado?
Me: Yes, Dear. But tornadoes don’t like to hang around tall buildings. They do seem to prefer flat land.
Sassy: Shouldn’t the animals be in here with us?
Me: Trust me, if there’s anything scary outside, they will all voluntarily come in here.
From the closet, we called my in-laws, who sat in their living room, surrounded by windows. This alarmed the girls. I said, “Psh, if y’all weren’t here, I’d be in the living room, too. They don’t have kids. And they’ve lived through more tornadoes than you’ve lived through days.”
Then I told stories of all the tornadoes I’ve seen, heard, and obviously lived through. Tornadoes are beautiful, like most natural phenomenon. They sound like freight trains or jets. If you see one, it’s actually hard to stop looking at it, because it’s truly awesome.
But deadly. Gotta respect the tornado.
We had some limbs come down. The back 40 flooded.
*claims personal victory*
My heart aches for all those who cannot claim the same outcome.
But let’s keep it light, hm?