Counting "Mississippi's"

The thunder here in Texas is like no other thunder I've ever experienced.  The land is so flat and the clouds are so big and there is just so much room for the thunder to echo and roll all over us little people.  The houses shake, even these fancy new ones made of brick and stone - and it will last for hours and hours.  It started around 10pm last night and has continued through today (it is 3:45 pm as I type this and still thundering!).

So, I found myself staring at the ceiling last night, waiting for flashes of lightning and then counting "Mississippi's".  It was so soothing to lay there and count...and satisfying to know the storm was getting closer as I reached seven mississippi, then six, then four.  It made me think of my dad and when he taught me this amazingly useful tool.  I think I must have been five or six (I was never good with numbers, so it had to be around then that the lesson stuck). 

We camped near the ocean in Virginia or the Carolina's for weeks nearly every summer of my life back then (usually the weeks after we returned from Norway before school started).  And, often, or at least once during those trips, there would be an earth shattering, tent jostling, thunder storm.  It was then that my dad taught my brother, Chuckie, and me to count Mississippi's.  He also taught us that the safest place to be during the storm was in a car because the rubber tires would absorb the lightning's shock. 

Now, the safest place to be in a big thunder storm is probably the nearest Best Western with complimentary breakfast and free HBO. However, back in those days, the day we spent at Busch Gardens cost every spare penny my parents had at the time, so the car HAD to be the safest place to be when the heavens opened.  Thinking back now, I think it's because of this lesson, told to me by my soaking wet father as he carried my brother and I from tent to car in his ever calm voice, that I have no fear of storms.  I actually find them thrilling and, oddly, relaxing. 

Littleman does not seem phased by storms yet.  Most of the time they seem to happen at night and he does not wake up.  I look forward to the day, though, when I can teach my little boy the magic of counting Mississippi's.

All the photos of those younger-years at the beach reside with my mother in NJ. All I had was this picture.  It was taken some 31 million years ago in Norway (I think I am two years old).  I believe we camped in Switzerland that summer...but those pictures are far from my reach. That's my dad behind me.

 

Littleme

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