I remember her saying “The angels are bowling” and thought, how silly and yet comforting. As the loud sound echoes through the mountains I remember my grandmother and imagine angels bowling in the clouds, laughing and competing with each other. Mostly, I thought of my grandmother. Victoria. The one I was named after. 

Another loud boom and my body jumps. Clearly, the thunder expects to be heard. I wonder, did my grandmother, who lived through WWI, the Great Depression, WWII, while raising a family, expect to be heard? 

I remember her voice being gentle, somewhat timid, yet often warning her husband to stop teasing us kids. He was like thunder, doing what he wanted, expecting to be heard. He loved to party and sing, she loved to cook and care for her family.

Lightening exposes the sky. Which is more dominant, thunder or lightning? Both warn of rain, potential deluge, flooding, and rock slides. Is it possible to determine which is stronger, or more forceful?

The storm passes, cleansing the sky, air and ground. I have not seen, heard or felt my grandparents in over 44 years. I wonder, did my grandmother, Victoria, expect me to remember her as sweetly as the smell of flowers after the rain?


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