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Created on: August 17, 2010
When people think of summer storms, imagines of flashing lightening, rolling thunder, and pitch black skies always fill their mind's eye. But what about summer storms on a more human level?
My summer storm started to begin in mid-July 2009. I could feel something ominous on the horizon of my future, but I kept plowing through my daily grind.
My co-worker told me my boss, Dr. Harvard wanted to speak to me immediately. Naively, I thought, "Maybe he wants to tell me in person what a good job he thinks I'm doing". I couldn't have been more wrong.
"Helen, I have no choice but to fire you," Dr. Harvard started without any smalltalk. "Your work ethic is lacking, you are constantly late, and you have problems connecting with the costumers." Thus my summer storm began with a downpour.
Soaking wet in my own misery and grief, I went home. Maybe my dog's comfort could dry my emotions off. But alas, when I opened my oak front door, the first strike of lightening hit. Thunder peeled through my brain as I called for Spot and he did not come. I searched and found him lying in the front room, whimpering in pain.
"I'm sorry to tell you this," Dr. Grave, the local veterinarian, told me, "But Spot is severely sick. He is an old dog. He would be most comfortable if you made the decision to put him down." The second lightening strike, this time closer to my heart. First my job, then my dog. Just as I was about to say yes to helping Spot, my cell vibrated in my pocket.
"Hello?" I answered weakly.
"Daisy," came my mom's voice equally weakly, "Daisy, something terrible has happened."
The last and most fatal lightening strike descended, striking my heart and rocking my world. My father had passed away in a deadly car accident.
It has been four years since my summer storm. I guess the only upside, the only ray of hope, is that storms cannot last forever. The sun always finds a way to shine out eventually.
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