My thunderstorm

It rained, it thundered, it lightning-ed. I got wet, I got splattered, I even got singed. The thunder was so loud, but I couldn't cover my ears. I was rooted to one spot, although I tried so hard to escape. The house probably shook, and the temperature - though hot at times- was very cold. That really was some thunderstorm - and it all happened inside.

Everyone else's thunderstorm did happen outside, and I enjoyed it for just a moment, my head lifted to the sky and drinking in the grace. Complete with rolling thunder, big full bellied clouds, and a gazillion raindrops. After much dancing and cavorting under the white, gray, blue, and dewy dew, I entered the house where an angry darkness was glooming. My sister, my dad, my mom, and even my elusive brother were there in the kitchen brewing up a nasty storm.

I tried so hard not to get caught up in it, but it was inevitable. I was family, I had to do my part. My dad, the authoritarian and king of stubborndom, thought he could still control the thoughts, ways, and means of his flock. But we little ones have grown up. All of us, with our own earned wisdom and evolving dreams, have flown far from his grasp. One of my sisters, however, still struggled to be free. My dad often brutally disapproved of her choices. In the storm, he tried to gather us to rally against her and her choices. I refused. I defended my sister at the risk of breaking my dad's heart. Everyone in the kitchen were yelling, at each other and at me. I learned to keep quiet and listen, and listen, and listen. I waited for the calm that approached but never quite landed. There were tears, lots of tears.

In the eye of the storm when things were momentarily still, I looked at my mom and dad and felt a great sadness. Their world and my world were so different. I have struggled to understand their logic, their reasons, their customs. It was difficult for me, how much more for them? They have travelled so far from their niche to see their flock again only to find the strange worlds they have settled into. For one or two of us, he tried to herd back to his island, where everything was perpetually green. The futility he must have felt when he realized he no longer had that power.

I tell my dad that we were all okay. I tell my mom not to worry. We were all grown up now. No need to tell us to come home.