When we were kids, my uncle would take all of us out to the garage to watch a big storm roll by. We just so happened to live south of what seemed to always be the path of the storms. So we would get our lawn chairs and flip cell phones out and have a fun night.
Times were so much more simple back then. We would laugh from the adrenaline running through our bodies – being so close to a storm yet so far away, you never know what could happen. We would gather around the weather radio and listen to where the rotation of a tornado was spotted. The garage was facing the right direction to see the storm go by and not have rain blowing in on you. There were no true worries back then. Those were the nights we were the closest. Those were the nights we came together. I wish I could get those childhood memories back. Now we’ve all grown up, split apart, and started our own families.
Tonight my own little fam sat in the garage and listened to the radio forecasts and watched the storm roll in. It was nothing too serious, but it did make me feel happy to share memories like this with the family I made. It connected me to my roots, and I’m thankful.
“I wish somebody would tell you you’re in the good ol’ days before you’ve actually left them.”
Between the Lens 