Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Last night the wind was blowing like crazy. I lay in bed listening to it. I've listened to the wind all of my life. I remember being just a small child in my little red and white bed with the animals marching across the foot of it. The wind scared me then. As I got older, I stopped being scared, but I do remember how the winter wind seem to scream around the eaves of our attic bedroom. I left home, and I listened to the wind in other places, alone in my soldier's bed, far away from the storms at home. I've laid awake at night listening to the wind laying in a double bed next to a man who did not love me. There were times when it seemed as if the storm outside was nothing compared to the storm that raged within. And when I came back to the only place I felt that I understood, I sometimes wondered as I listened to the wind, was I strong enough to withstand it? Could I bring my children through it? Now I am...well...oldish. I laid in bed next to my comfortable snoring lump, underneath warm blankets and let my thoughts wander to other times, and other storms, and other places, and other ages. Tim and I have weathered a lot of storms lately. The wind no longer frightens me.