There was a tornado that passed our town and touched down on the other side of the river. I was 3 hours away when it happened and luckily my roommate called me to tell me to stay where I was. It surprised me that my dad had yet to call me. Every morning and every night he check the weather online before he starts his day, or goes to sleep. For 6 years, he’s been a better weather radar than the local news, occasionally texting or calling to let me know a storm was on its way.
I still haven’t heard from him since July. And although my hurt may sound trivial compared to the pain people are feeling right now with homes and belongings completely gone, I can’t help how it creeps into my mind at work and stops me in mid sentence throughout the day. I’m pretty sure he knew about it and didn’t call me. Even if he didn’t know before, he knew about it after and still didn’t call me.
So one day, while shower thinking, I thought about the situation as if it was the other way around. If an earthquake were to hit home, I’d be calling as soon as I can. As a matter of fact, when a 5.4 earthquake hit right outside of Mexico City, I called home to ask if they knew if everyone was okay. My dad and uncle hadn’t heard about the earthquake yet. If that’s how I reacted about family I barely know, I would definitely be calling if it hit California.
It’s sad to think that I almost drove right into a storm, if it hadn’t been for my roommate’s call. He wouldn’t have had a clue, not out of not being aware, but out of pride. And unfortunately, my resentment grows.
I read once in a roommates most deepest writings that hurricane sandy killed the non believers and saved those that believed.
But what about the children? Innocent, unknowingly mistake-making children whom deserve only the best. How about the children in the Middle East, dyeing horrible deaths from drones sent with a button from the other side of this Mother Earth? She cries, I swear by it. What about the children overworking their developing bodies, working days in and days out to make needless material objects for Walmart bought by this very same roommate, objects used maybe once and left to waste? What about those affected by globalization, a loss of culture, and a never ending identity crisis for the mistakes of Europeans made hundreds of years ago? What about the children forced into slavery of all kinds? And those forced to have children after being raped. Or those that live next door to you, starving while you eat three meals a day, with a small snack of 200 calories or less in between each meal. Or those that wish they could read? How about the children fighting cancer or aids, or those living with sick parents that expect care from them? Children lost and confused with no where to go.
I read her comment about hurricane sandy in her personal journal that she left out on the dining room table. Pages open and full of a false knowledge, the overall ignorance constantly protruding out of this close-minded, Midwestern world. Pages heavy with the scent of frustrated innocent children, asking this supposed god, why?
This morning, 52 dead in Oklahoma, some of them children. A state drenched with self-righteous Christianity. So I ask you, now what?
I find it quiet hilarious
that one of the things you didn’t like about me
you ended up doing
not as easy as it looks, is it?
Okay, maybe not hilarious,
but ironic that the heatheness in me
only spread to you
all while you were trying to save me
from my love of affection and hate of its opposing factors
I enjoy the seconds and years of my life I have spent
exploring beautiful beings Mother Nature created
Save me mother from the nature of the beast
Save me from yourself and the fake attitude you call believing
while believing is not knowing fact
is not always victorious when written by men many years ago
So listen here
Listen and hear the voice of a victorious woman
Living a life of love and affection
Saving the life of the little girl she used to be
A woman proud to have failed and lost
Failed at her highest and lowest
Only to rise and greet mother nature once more
Save me mother, save me
But don’t save me for the wrong reasons.
One thing about the Midwest, it’s usual dreaded flat land leaves room to see the sky. I love that I can see the front of a storm, and showers concentrated in only some areas. Walls of grey and dark blue and hints of a peach sun behind them. Peach was my nickname once.
Your eyelashes damp and gathered together with teardrops, like the lashes of a dandelion on a rainy day. You cried until the clouds disappeared, clearing out the sinuses of the great skies until your face withered dry. Cracked like the deserts grounded in the world of regret. I told you moving forward is the only option for someone stranded.
You could have, I know you know.