Even though I am unable to see what is out there, I usually take a picture from my plane window seat before takeoff. On this particular morning in Philadelphia, a few minutes before 6 am, the sun had begun to rise. When I saw the photo, it felt fitting: the promise of a new day, the promise of a trip ahead.
Landing in Philly eight days later, I texted a friend to let her know I was safely back on the ground. She lives close to me and let me know that an intense storm had just come through at home, now it was on its way to my location. This news meant that the bad weather would most likely meet us somewhere on the Blue Route (IYKYK).
Sharing the weather report with my husband, he turned to the plane’s window as we taxied to the gate. “Yep, it’s coming,” he confirmed. “Take a picture and look at it.”
Enlarging the photo on my phone, I could see what they were both talking about. Not for the first time in my life, I wondered if it’s better to know that a metaphorical storm is coming or to not have any warning. In the scenario in question, being in the know would not keep you safe nor allow you to make a change that would lessen or prevent the impact. It would also have no effect on the result.
The control freak in me wants to know, the worrier in me does not.
While we did have some rain starting as soon as we left the parking garage, what the sky had forecasted never came. As we made the drive to our house, the route so familiar that I could find my way with the little vision I have, I realized that as much as I love to travel, if a storm is coming, I want to be home.
#SisterRain #ALittleSightALotOfHeart #LegallyBlindWriter #HumanInterest #Life #LifeIsGood #LifeStories
