The storms of life come in all varieties, don’t they?

The other night my neighborhood got hit with an actual storm.  Heavy rain, massive lightning and a possible tornado.  I was oblivious.  I had seen the radar before bed and it looked like the worst part was supposed to go north of me, so I didn’t give it a second thought.  I never even heard the sirens.

But in the morning, I found the grill cover totally blown off (fortunately it didn’t blow away, just off) and several neighbors lost a partial tree.  My house appeared relatively unscathed, with the exception of a new water stain in the ceiling of the boys’ bedroom.  Ugh.  Roof damage?  Add that to the list of “Stuff to deal with”.  It’s always something.  But Allstate is living up to thier motto.  As I picked up the phone to call my agent the other day, the phone rang.  It was Allstate.  Whoa, talk about being “in good hands”.  Granted they were calling about something totally unrelated, but still, how weird is that?

Other times, we have more figurative “storms” and we don’t escape the stress of the experience.  Like last week when I went out to my car to head to work and found it with a dead battery.  Not just once, but TWO days in a row.  Ok, obviously it was time to take my car in.  I was so thankful for helpful, understanding neighbors, co-workers and friends who offered assistance through that.  On Friday morning, I sat in my car at the Hyundai dealership in tears because the woman had said to me, “Well, can you just leave it here?”

“For how long?” I asked.

“Ummm, we can probably get to it on Tuesday.”

Are you freaking kidding me?!  No, I can’t leave my car til Tuesday.  I have places to be that I can’t run to since it’s 100 degrees out and I need to show up non-sweaty and melted.  Additionally, how am I supposed to pick my kids up from school?  I do have a new bike, but I’m pretty sure the 4 of us won’t all fit.  UGH.

“Don’t you have any family to pick you up?” she asked.

The only family I have here are my kids and given their ages, they don’t have cars of their own.  Thanks for the reminder that I am doing this totally on my own, Miss Hyundai.

So, off I went to Auto Zone for a new battery.  And it was as simple as that.  I was back in business.  The tears had really been unnecessary.  I was making the situation worse than it actually was.

And still other times, there are the storms that come in waves.  Sometimes they seem not so bad, I’ve escaped the worst part, the eye has passed.  And then, I’m faced with another round.

I don’t want to harp on this, but let me just say again, being a single parent is hard.  I always had a tremendous amount of respect for parents who do it alone, but now that I’m living it, it’s a whole new ballgame.  Dealing with the roof, and the car battery, and all the other storms…alone.  Then you throw in the emotional turmoil of the innocent bystanders who show up in the aftermath.

Yesterday morning, my kids were getting ready for school.  I was in the kitchen making lunches when Silas came in wearing just his underwear having a total meltdown.  He wanted the belt that Ethan was wearing.  Finally I got the whole story.  There is a rule at school regarding uniforms, if a child has belt loops, he needs a belt.  (A couple years ago, I went as far as cutting all the belt loops off of the boys’ shorts in order to avoid this.  Yeah, I know, I’m a terrible parent for teaching my kids to rebel against the rules.  Don’t judge me, it was about survival.  And I just may do it again.)  So, Silas was freaking out because if he didn’t wear a belt he would get an “Oopsie” note and have to go to Mr. Keller’s office.

Ultimately, for most, not a huge deal right? You just find the belt.  Well, what do you say to your kid at 7:45 in the morning when his belt is across town at his dad’s house?  This was a reminder that my kids have to deal with the effects of a storm they had no control over.  They have two houses.  Stuff gets left at one house or the other.  It gets lost. And we do the best we can to remember everything or make due with what we’ve got.  But sometimes we just need a little grace because the reality is nobody wins in this arrangement.

Eventually, Ethan offered the belt to his brother.  And I drove the kids to school feeling a little more sad than other days.

After drop off I didn’t have lots of time, but I knew I needed a clear my head run.  I went over to Al Foster trail, waved to Marxkors as I drove past her graceful stride in the Fleet Feet singlet that mirrored the one I was wearing, and laced up my shoes.

When I started running the fog was thick.  I couldn’t even see the Meremac from the trail.  The lush greenery surrounding me made the trail seem dark even though the sun had been up for a couple hours already.  I started running.  Heart pounding, lungs burning and the satisfying sound of gravel and leaves crunching beneath my feet.  Immediately I began to feel better.  I only had time to go a couple miles out so when my Garmin beeped at 2 miles, I turned around and headed back.  As I was within about a mile of the parking lot, I realized that the fog had started to burn off, the sun was coming through and there was the river.  On my return, I never did see those two huge spiders on their gigantic webs that were impossible to miss on the way out.  (Yikes, I did a hair check, just in case)  And as I rounded the trail away from the river and back to my car, the sky was blue and the sun was high.

How in the world did the sky change that quickly?  In a half an hour the scenery looked completely different.  And my mood was lighter.

We really don’t have control over any of the storms in life.  I guess that’s what makes them storms.  I know I’m dealing with a storm that will come and go for the rest of my time on this earth.  But, as I ran yesterday, I was reminded that no matter what small storms come in the aftermath as a result of the devastation from the storm that lead to my new life, the sun will shine again.  Sometimes I have to wait for the rain to stop and the fog to burn off, and sometimes I may feel like the wind is whipping me to pieces, but I’ll wait it out, cry it out and hold on for dear life until the sun comes out again.  Because if there is one thing I know, somehow it always does.