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Carol Perkins: Storms and feather beds Previous Column: The Stretch Stitch By Carol Perkins My mother was terrified of storms. She was sure lightning would strike one of us if we weren't sitting on a feather bed or holding a feather pillow. We had to keep our feet off the floor, which was easy, since they didn't reach the floor. When I asked why she was so afraid of storms, she blamed it on an aunt who feared everything. Unlike my mother, I don't fear storms. I respect them, but don't go to the lengths she did for protection. If a storm warranted a tornado, we went to the basement. Neighbors often joined us, creating a party atmosphere for us kids. Even my grandmother and uncles came to our basement. My dad never feared storms, but he respected my mother's neurosis. As she got older and after my dad passed, she didn't want to be alone if a storm was predicted, so if her brother didn't come to her house, I would go after her. One particular time that made me lose my patience happened when a storm was raging. She called. "I think I need to come to your house before it gets worse." It was already "worse." Evidently, her brother hadn't ventured out in the storm, and she pushed the envelope timeline until the power lines were sagging. "You're going out in this?" Guy asked, knowing the answer. When she saw my car, she ran with a paper over her head and got inside. I held my thoughts. As the car rocked on the highway, I was sure we were in the middle of a tornado. About the time we turned onto Wilson Circle, she looked at me as a child might look who wants to say something but is hesitant. "You know what I forgot?" she said. I couldn't imagine anything important. She carried her inhaler in her purse. "I forgot my cigarettes." She smoked two a day but later quit. "Surely you don't want me to go back after your cigarettes." Yes, she did. Like an obedient child, I returned as shingles flew off roofs. I did not, however, offer to get out and get them. She didn't ask. How much did she fear the storm? Not as much as she feared being without her cigarettes. I never let her forget that night. She speculated she must have been struck by lightning. You can contact Carol at carolperkins06@gmail.com. This story was posted on 2025-04-04 11:10:42
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Have comments or corrections for this story? Use our contact form and let us know. More articles from topic Carol Perkins:
Carol Perkins: The Stretch Stitch Carol Perkins: On the Road Again Carol Perkins: Trying to leave Carol Perkins: The Recipe Carol Perkins: It never dawned on me Carol Perkins: Worn Boots Carol Perkins: The Magnet Carol Perkins: The Porch Lights Carol Perkins: A Face with the Voice Carol Perkins: Sounds of Aging View even more articles in topic Carol Perkins |
 
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