The sound of thunder always takes me back to “the night of the big storm”. It was a summer evening in 1982. Many family members were together at my grandmother’s house helping her pack in the no sells from her yard sale that day. It had been hot that day and there were talks of possible storms moving in by night. The first crack of lightning lent a sense of urgency to task at hand. As the last of the remainders were packed into boxes, the wind picked up and in rolled the thunder. Soon after the storm followed and the lights went out. My mom and grandma went about lighting candles and we all gathered to ride out the storm. My cousin Will told a ghost story and we all listened quietly and waited for our turn. There’s not been many more nights when all of us were together like that and not many more special than that one in my memory. The lights did come back on and the storm passed. However grateful we all were to see the storm move along, It was a little sad to see time slowly begin to move again.