I used to live in a part of the country where every TV station had a yearly Tornado program. They show all these Super-Cells and all the damage from the storms. I grew up surrounded by this yearly update on what to do when a storm strikes.
Don't think I'm making lite of this issue, I'm not. One morning I went to work and greeted a close friend as I did every morning. That night he died standing on his front porch watching for the Tornado that took his life.
At one time if you ask, where was Tornado Alley, any weatherman could draw a big circle on a map, and he would probably be right on the mark.
Today, however with the current state of climate change and everything seemingly becoming the storm of the century every other week, we seem to be accepting "Que se rah, se rah."
I personally have never seen a tornado. My wife from another life saw one. While standing in the back yard, fascinated by the ever-changing colors of the sky. She described it as a rainbow pulled apart over a hundred miles. She then commenced to pee her pants when she saw the twister a mile away.
That was then ... what I used to call the good ole days.
My name is Justin Wilson. I was a good student until I got into high school. I found out what girls look like under what they called style, and holy shit!
Even my buddies said I was gonna go blind. That's when I met Connie. Let's just say for the sake of this yarn I'm weaving, Connie and I hit it off. So much hitting that we were married at an early age.
Connie and I have one daughter. Her name is Tiffany, Connie called her Tiff, and I just called her one tuff little fire ball.
If anyone took the time to do the math, and many did. Let's just say there was no shotgun involved, but there could have been.
With my attitude in High School, I was going to have to put in a lot of hours if I was going to support my growing family. I did just that.
After busting my chops for just over five years I scraped together enough college hours for a degree and lied and cheated to get in with a great company in my hometown.
I found that rewards are earned not just given. So, I put in the hours, study, work and then more work. Unfortunately, I lost sight of the really important things, my family.
Somewhere along the way I began to think things in life that cost the most money was more important. It turns out I was as stupid as I thought.
Responsibility has grown and so has the family paycheck. I'm home every night but one, and on those nights, I'm usually scanning contracts or work orders. In my job, I have to be away from home about one night a week, maybe two. It never has been a big deal. I tell Connie, which night(s) it will be, and she plans accordingly.
I make a very handsome living selling and troubleshooting extremely expensive high-end Hospital diagnostic equipment. I don't do any of the repairs myself. We have a very highly trained staff that runs all over the area doing the heavy lifting.
On this particular evening, I was in an almost euphoric mood. Contracts went extremely well. Bonases would be very large. I was thinking there might be a cruise or a trip to Hawaii.
Things like that cross your mind when you are singing along to all the songs on the radio; making up words and laughing as you go along.
I had stopped for gas, so I missed the announcement there was a large tornado on the ground nearing the burbs where I lived.
I could see the cloud tops as I drove, but they seemed to be heading away from me, so I just kept driving. The first sign that something might not quite be right, Ambulances passing me headed in the same direction.
The closer I got to my house the more emergency vehicles were in my way. Panic was now growing more and more powerful. I couldn't get my mind off my wife and daughter.
When I could go no further, I parked the car and took off running. I don't remember if I closed the car door or not. The possibility of my wife or my daughter not being in my life was crushing.
As I turned the corner to what was my street, there were no houses. Both sides of the street were gone. A cul-de-sac with only twelve concrete slabs, twelve sets of steps up to twelve doorways that were no longer there. One of those empty slabs was my slab. It supported my house with my wife, my child, my hopes, my dreams, my everything.
I ceased to see anything. My eyes closed and I fell to my knees. My body shook and breathing was more than just difficult. The only thing my mind could see was my daughter's tiny body being ripped apart.
Prayers began instantly. "Oh, God why would you take her from me?" My mind quickly ran the gauntlet of all the other stages of tragedy.
"Daddy, daddy," filled the air and I began to breathe again. As quickly as I turned around my arms were filled with the loving embrace of my Tiffany.
"Where's your mom?" I asked.
Tiff, looked up at the face of her friend, Janet's, mother, Silvia Morris.
Silvia, at one time, Connie's best friend, was gently shaking her head to indicate a negative response. "Connie brought Tiffany over to play with Janet and said was going back to the house to try and get rid of a headache.
The days following the tornado were nightmarish. It seemed like every human on the planet was going out of their way to offer some kind of assistance. How do you deal with the constant reminders that your wife is gone? She was the victim of a storm. Life does continue, albeit a little different now that I had to be both dad and mom.
It took weeks and weeks of counseling for Tiffany, just to get to sleep through the night. It was beginning to work; she was that strong and feisty little girl I once knew. And she was the first to say she didn't want to be protected from the truth. I told you she was special.
If you're wondering about why I'm not grieving all that much over my deceased wife. This might be the perfect starting point.
When Tiffany was about three and a half, I was taking more college courses than I should. Working six days a week, and operating on maybe five, but usually four hours of sleep a night.
My most important job was taking care of my family and getting us out of this maelstrom of debt. I needed to give my family a life with a nice house and a solid financial foundation for the future.
On one of those Friday nights, I promised myself and my family I was going to put the books and the work away. I was going to be a dad and a husband for one whole day.
That Friday started off like any other day in a house where people were normal.
We went out for breakfast, played on the swings at the park. We even splurged on steak for the grill and watched a movie together. I nudged my wife, signaling it was time to head upstairs to see if I remembered how to do the nasty.
We did what we haven't done in a long time. I threw myself into my work. Connie came twice before I even got started; or so I thought. She didn't want to go down on me, but that was normal. We kissed a lot and when I was finished, and we were holding each other I got the surprise of my life.
Right in the middle of a conversation where I admitted I had fallen down on the sex thing, she pushed my face away and looked me right in the eye and said, "I'm having an affair with another man."
I was stunned. "You're what? ... who's the lucky guy? ... By the time the word "guy" left my mouth I was out of the bed, standing naked.
"Is it someone from your work? Oh, no that can't be it." I spit the words at her. "It can't be someone from work, because you don't fucking work! It's all on me. It's four or five hours of sleep at night. The one day a week I get to even see my family it's fix this or go get that. And you're the one that gets to fuck around, while I have to jack off in a toilet stall while some poor smuck gets to wait till I'm done."
All the while I was gathering my shit with the intension of getting the fuck away from this woman.
Stepping into the hall, I heard that magic word, "daddy." A squeaky tiny voice sounded as though filled with fear. "Why are you yelling at mommy?"
It was at that very Nano-second, I knew I could not leave. After all, this little girl was the real reason I was working myself to death. If I hadn't had a hard-on for her mother in High School, none of this would have happened.
With Tiffany's arms hugging my legs, I made a decision. Slung one strap of my backpack over my shoulder, grabbed Tiff with the other and we soon settled into her very small bed. That was the first night I could ever remember crying myself to sleep.
The next morning, before the slut or Tiffany could get out of bed, I had already cleared enough junk out of the spare room. I would be able to squeeze in a cot and a cardboard Chest with three drawers. What a man will do for the most beautiful little girl in the world; absolutely amazing!
Over the next month or so, I spoke not a single word to my wife. She never said the words divorce, separation, get your shit and get out or anything. I spent every extra minute I had giving assurance to my daughter that I would never leave her. She was all I had in my life that was worth anything, and her mother wasn't worth a plug nickel.
Answer a question for me. Is there a person in your life that you wouldn't waste your time pissing on if they were on fire? I remember hearing my dad say that about me, when I had to do the right thing, and marry this woman, even though she was a slut. I honestly hope you have never said it about the mother of your children. Of course, I said it about my wife. The truth of the matter, I meant it and will always feel that way.
I was closing in on wrapping up my classes at the local University. These last three days of classes were going to drag out to feel like a year, but I was confident. A mixture pride, relief, and a dream of getting away from the wicked witch of the county.
It was late at night. From the street, I could see the light on in Tiffany's room. She had a night-lite that shines stars against the sheer curtains. She and I make up names of the different shadows. I called one star Connie, her mothers' name. She renamed it Butthead. I didn't know she even knew what a butthead was, but the name stuck. She would laugh and say, "watch out daddy, here comes Butthead." We couldn't help but laugh.
