Hours pass. I busy myself playing in the back yard with Libby and McGee until storms threaten. Inside we play with building blocks and read several books. At 7:00 p.m. Alma encourages me to shoot a text requesting an update. I decide to send a group text in hopes that one of my friends has a moment to let me know if there is any update.
Me: Anxious to hear if you have an update
Moments pass. I force the fear that attempts to overtake me back to the pit of my stomach. I ask Alma to keep an eye on Libby while I take a minute. I slip out to the back porch. A summer storm brews around us. Angry, dark clouds approach from the west, the winds pick up speed, and the temperature drops ten degrees. It would be easy to let this tumultuous weather influence my mood, but storms don’t bring me down—they rejuvenate me. As a child, I thought I would like to be a weather-chaser and study meteorology. I’ve always been drawn to changes in the weather.