Am I Ready For Weather Again?

image courtesy of here

Not of hurricanes, no.

Yes to tornadoes. BIG YES to tornadoes.

Does that look like a happy sight to see? The awesome power and destruction they cause, and I have been convinced since a little girl that those suckers are aimed directly for me.

I will never forget my first trip home in 2012. I got it in my little brain it would be an easy drive without stopping if hubby & I swapped sleeping & driving in my oh-so-uncomfortable civic. Night 2, 

Saturday night, around 6 p.m. we're entering Missouri on Route 44 as a severe storm moves in our path. I start to panic, my husband chuckles at me. We pull off to the side at first, thinking it will pass us. My husband soon decides no, we're just going to have to get ahead of it and we drive on. 

We did manage to get ahead of it at first. As night took hold, my husband asked to switch driving so he could catch a few z's around 9 p.m. In that short time we stopped to switch, the storm gained some major ground. 

For two hours I drove on the winding hills of Route 44 into the Ozarks. I was totally unfamiliar with the path and each turn felt more ominous than the last to me. I saw stars directly overhead, and am convinced it was only clear spot; every other inch around my car revealed bursts of lightning. I was sleep deprived by this point; the uncomfortable car gave me little sleep and the excitement of the trip the night before provided even less. That storm kept me awake, but the sleep deprivation built all kinds of horrific scenarios in my mind. We were now miles from Joplin, but the recollection of the massively destructive F5 tornado that hit the town a year prior was still fresh in my mind. I was certain I would go up a hill and a bust of lightning would finally reveal my foe; a massive tornado heading for me with no idea of where shelter could be found.

I tried to focus on the road, but fear of that tornado being near my path steered my vision toward my surroundings with each assault of that storm's light. They illuminated portions of the sky and the darkened shadows of treetops around me. My mind began playing scenarios where those cryptic treetops somehow hid a tornado in the distance, one sure to find me eventually. These thoughts went on the entire drive. 

When we stopped for gas my husband awoke and the storm caught up to us, the rain pouring down in thick sheets. My husband had awoken at the gas trip and I tried to make a brave face for him to lure him back to sleep, but my panic must have seeped through. Or maybe it was my sheet-white knuckles. He laughed at me and told me to pull over, he was taking over once more. My fear was not as strong as my guilt for his lack of sleep. I gleefully wimped out and took passenger once more. Somehow being able to keep a better eye out for my foe as passenger brought me near instant comfort. It was less than an hour outside of St Louis before the storm finally gave up its chase and I was able to catch a few hours of sleep, my nightmare finally at an end.

Last night such a storm hit my hometown area once more. Much too close for comfort. Below is where the tornado hit, the yellow dot being my home town.

Had that been like the destructive F5 that hit Joplin, my little town would likely no longer be on the map. We were lucky, and our luck is overdue running out; this is not the first close call this town has had.

I will not be returning specifically to Marengo, but I will be returning to storms and tornado's again. I have gotten too comfortable out here; I have forgotten what this fear feels like. I have gotten too comfortable with the lack of real weather, and I worry returning to this will push my fears into overdrive. It's going to be a life-long white-knuckled car trip every spring and early summer unless I learn how to get this fear in check.