Sarah Samudre's Tumblr

Lilo, jumping for a snowball that Vasant had lobbed her way on Sunday. 

This picture is from when the snow had first begun to fall. We’ve probably gotten a total of five inches since then. We lost some Monday morning and gained more back Monday night/Tuesday morning. We lost more during the day Tuesday and now we sit bundled up at home… awaiting the 6-15 inches the weathermen are predicting will hit us between 2 am tonight and Wednesday evening. 

I’m excited about the snow, less excited about the 35-40 mph winds that’ll come in at the tail end of the storm. That and a potential for freezing rain on Thursday… this could be a day of winter delight with a swift transition into frozen frustrations.

There is, however, something so wonderful about being prepared for an incoming storm. We heard about the snow and the winds early, so Vasant and I have been prepared with plenty of food, water, blankets, candles and more since Sunday. I don’t know why I get so giddy over being prepared for events like these, but I do. It’s probably something my Dad instilled in me as a kid when, during car trips or for dinner conversation, he would provide us with a natural disaster and then ask how we would prepare for it. He would always give the correct answer (aka his method) after we’d all gone. And when I say we’d all go, I mean one sister would roll her eyes, another would answer “I don’t know” and the third would tell us which toys she’d grab. I was the only one who would really get into the game and get so frustrated when Dad and I didn’t see eye to eye on the best way to escape an alien invasion/ice age/nuclear holocaust/meteor/super-volcano eruption/etcetera.

I am now the one in charge of my home’s storm prep. I have been obsessively checking the radar, watching the bands of snow creep in and out of our area, and preparing for the potential of power outages tomorrow.

Last night, we went to my family’s house to watch the new Sherlock. My Dad was busy doing the same thing. Asking if we needed anything at Costco, telling me what the radar was doing, telling me his personal forecast based off his research on NOAA’s site, advising that we get all our laundry done before the winds pick up on Wednesday…

It made me feel connected to him. It also made me realize how ridiculous we both sound, but I don’t really care. My Dad and I like weather. We like preparing for storms. We like preparing for disasters and we spend nights thinking about how we’ll act when all the shit is going down around us. 

And honestly, there is usually always a storm in some area of our lives. I suppose it’s easier for Dad and I to think about how we’ll deal with weather, knowing that our resolve to protect everyone, make sure we’re all warm, well-fed and see the storm as fun, translates into the more metaphysical storms that we and the rest of the family, are going through. 

All this is to say, that as we bundle up and await this storm, I love my Dad. I love battening down the hatches. I love that this is how we live life and I think we both love it when the storm we’re prepping for is just that… a meteorological event. Maybe a bit of wind and ice will come down with the snow. But there’ll be sledding and cider tomorrow. There’ll be laughter and wonder as we behold the beauty of the snow. No matter what the downsides are, there’ll be those warm experiences we create and hold onto. 

I love that he taught me to love a good storm. I don’t think I’d have been able to live *this* particular life without that.