Rain, ice, wind and lightning besiege me as I sit under the slanted roof of the office I occupy alone.

I’m reminded of a memory at least 10, probably 15 years old—at a friend’s house, the same slanted roof; different décor, atmosphere, purpose, and probably, weather.

Talking through the night with the dearest of friends… perhaps our emotions were as stormy as the weather outside tonight. We were young, after all. Emotions tend toward the stormy for teenage girls, even more than the summer weather in our Iowa hometown. Even more than the hailstorm outside my Fifth Avenue windows tonight.

Why this memory, so vividly? Why now? I’m always perplexed when these seemingly unrelated and utterly vivid memories arise out of nowhere, but believe there’s a reason. Flashes before my eyes, showing me something.

But what? Something to write? Something to remember? Something to reconcile?

Maybe this, if nothing else:

In their lofted bedroom in 1995, I was amongst the warmth of friends, but could feel isolated, alone on the inside, with just the tiniest provocation or tipping of the delicately balanced scales of my mind.

Tonight, I am all on my own in a beautiful but austere office as ice pounds down with a terrifying force on the windows above my head and lightning flashes all around, but I know that I know that I am never alone. Never forsaken. Fully and completely loved. Safe and protected.

No wind, no rain, no hail, and no person can shake that confidence, compromise that knowing, or separate me from that truth that I’ve learned.


2 Responses to “Hailstorm”

  1. 1 Christine 12 October 2010 at 15:32


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