The Forecaster

Most of the country is in a deep freeze today.  A friend from St. Louis texted me a picture of my home.  It looked like a Christmas picture postcard all adrift in powdery snow.  A bit blurry at first, I squeezed my eyes tighter to hold my I-Phone a bit farther away.  No, there was nothing wrong with my eyes, after all.  The picture was fine, not fuzzy or out of focus.  It was just difficult to see my home adrift in all of the white.  Millions of minute snowflakes, no two alike were falling from God’s sky in all of their delight.

Currently, the weather is a dilemma in our country.  This is not lost on me.  I’ve raised a son who lives and breathes it every day.   Since toddlerhood, he has been fascinated with snow.  Now that he is an adult, he warns of severe thunderstorms and tornadoes while helping to predict hurricanes and typhoons.  His passion though, is snow.  S.N.O. W.,  through and through.

Whenever my son sits in front of his computer modules looking at the colors on the screen, the squiggly lines or movement and flow, it becomes his golden time.  He’s waited all his life for this historic weather-time.  Half the earth is colder than it may ever be in this century!  This is my son’s life-time trophy to be put on an imaginary shelf.  One he never expected to live to see, yet here it is!  Can it really be?

My son has a true love for the beauty of the freezing snow.  Yes, this is true.  Most importantly, he saves lives.  Lives…..yours and mine.  Others don’t often stop to think about this.  Many make jokes about the weather.  Some say, “Anyone can predict it.”  Ha!  When sirens screech loudly in the distance, when radio signals blare or your local television weather person say’s “TAKE COVER,” it is due to the years of education together with long working hours of, you guessed it….my son.

True, the study of “Atmospheric Science’ or Weather is my son’s  passion.  Still, stop to think about this.  He gets up in the dawn of morn or the quiet of night with his wife and babies sleeping tight.  Sweetly, he kisses foreheads before packing up to leave for an unknown number of hours.  His ‘day’ depends on the weather.  Working three different shifts from week to week or month to month, his schedule changes.   Often, his body clock struggles to adapt.  At times, his loyal service dog, “Nimbus,” may look up to question him.  Black eyes the color of damp mud look to his Master as if to say, “Already?”  “Again?”  Four paws and a tail shake it off before trudging away for another d.a.y.

So, while you’re out shoveling today, slipping, sliding, or complaining please remember my son.  Yes, he lives and breathes to see sparkling, white snow.  But, too, he’s done his very best job for you.  His very best job….

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