It is days like today I think of Micheal a lot. Thunderstorms rolling through. He would have been out in the middle of them. I have a more than a few thunderstorm related memories of Micheal.
When he was very little, not more than two, we lived in northern California. Well thunderstorms were very rare. One night one came through. It was a good one. Big booms and flashes of light. I went to the back of the house to his room to check and make sure he was not scared. There he stood in his crib the curtain pulled back jumping up and down yelling "Do it again, do it again". Then it would thunder and lightening and he would laugh. Seems he loved thunderstorms from the very start.
He loved the rain even without the thunder. It meant puddle stomping. Oh I remember he would drag out his old shoes and beg to go on a puddle stomp walk. We had so much fun doing that. How may kids get encouraged to stomp puddles and try and splash mom?
Years later we would move to the midwest where thunderstorms were common. Micheal would beg to go out and play in them. I would let him go out in the rain but not if there was lightening. Once he was a teen I gave up trying to keep him inside during storms. He learned though. He, his brother and one of their friends went out into the yard during a bad storm. Being tough guys proving they were not afraid of some thunder and lightening... till the lightening hit a few yards away. All three came running it the front door at once. Getting stuck like something out of an old 3 Stooges show. And yelling Mommy mommy mommy. After that they elected to stay on the porch.
Just a very few short years later when it would rain he would get a chair and go sit on the porch, usually alone. He would just watch it and listen to it. Sometimes he would be so deep in thought he would not realize someone else had sat down on the porch too. I learned very quickly to just sit and wait for him to see me there. The discussions were random in those moments. Sometimes serious, sometimes mundane. They were mom and son moments.
The day they brought Pokey home there was a light mist. My husband called in "infantryman weather". I think he found some comfort in it. That night a tremendous thunderstorm came through. It was as if he sent it to make sure we knew he was alright and with us. The next day there was 5 inches of snow. My youngest kept saying Pokey sent it for him. My youngest loves snow as much as Pokey loved thunderstorms. I have to think Pokey sent it. The very next day,the day of the funeral, the weather was clear and sunny and 70 degrees. It was the most bizarre 3 days of weather I have ever experienced.
I still love the rain. I tell people I love the rain because it hides the tears. To some extent that is true, but it also takes me back to times in my memory that make me smile remembering the excited toddler yelling "Do it again", the teen who could not resist being in the middle of it, and the young man who would sit on the porch and almost mediate as he watched it.