Through the Eye of a Storm

In my continuing efforts to downsize, keeping the things that mean the absolute most to me, while also keeping it clean and organized, I recently went through my mom's hurricane maps (among other things) and divided them up between my siblings and me.

These are her hurricane tracking maps from 1980 through 2012.

Her earlier maps were put to good use when my niece used them

for a science project while in high school in Texas.

I thought it would be hard to let go of them, because each hurricane track of each year is written by her own hand - displaying the progression of her essential tremors. That's just the type of 'stuff' I usually have the most difficulty parting with. And, hurricane season is what sparked the most energy out of Mom. But I was good with it, and now everyone has a bit of her weather history to share with their families.

She'd never admit it, but, just like television's meteorologists, Mom lived for hurricane season. Hot off the presses, Mom had her annual tracking map ready, unfolded, placed on top of her coffee table, pencils sharpened and note paper sitting there for taking down storm coordinates. When the weather advisories came on, you didn't dare disturb her.

Here's Mom sitting in front of the battery-powered TV with my husband during hurricane Wilma in 2005, getting the latest information from the powers that know - even though we already knew. We were sitting in it for heaven's sake! Look at how astonished she appears to be. The power is off and other than the TV and the flash of my camera, we're sitting in the dark, the wind is thrashing, water is dripping through the ceiling and we can hear something banging up against the house, but can't see anything because of the shutters. Still, though, she's astonishingly amazed by the weather report she's watching. You just have to laugh.

I know I've shared in the past how she would buy new toys for us at the start of hurricane season in Miami and then when the power went out, she'd keep us entertained with those new toys. I still believe that's why I also look forward to a day off because of a tropical storm or a hurricane. There are far worse things than being locked-in with those you love, right?

After yelling at me, she'd faint if she knew I've told people it was her favorite time of year. The truth is, Mom respected the weather and all its force. I remember a small tornado hitting our street in Fort Pierce when I was a young child, maybe 4-years old. I remember her grabbing me and my baby sister and taking us into the closet of one of the bedrooms; sitting there on the floor until the noise turned to silence.

Most vividly, though, I remember one year - after Alzheimer's had basically rendered my father's helpfulness useless - my mother put up several of her shutters herself. She knew my husband and I were going to come to her house after work to do it, but she didn't want to "be a burden," and started putting them up herself.

It wasn't just our own weather that she kept an eye on, she followed the weather wherever family was living. She'd phone her brother in California if fires were burning, she'd phone her sisters in Illinois if the rivers were cresting, she'd phone my sister if it was unseasonably cold in Orlando, etc. She could name the types of clouds, and she could predict weather patterns based upon her barometric pressure gauge that still hangs in the hallway just outside what was her bedroom door.

All of this brings me to what I did tonight. I kept only three of her many hurricane maps; the three that meant the most to me: 2004, which was the busiest season for us here on the Treasure Coast, 2005, because the entire alphabet and then some was used for names, and 2012, because she passed away right in the middle of tracking a storm.

I know these maps won't mean a thing to anyone else, so I decided to make a sort of collage using the three maps, some newspaper headlines and a few photos from the 2004 and 2005 seasons. I also know it looks rather primitive, but I don't care. It will hang in the hall next to her barometer that we still rely upon today.

And every time I look at it, I'll be reminded of how I also need to learn to be respectful of the force of the weather.


Thanks for the good hurricane memories.