I pulled into the drive. 2:15 pm. Mom & Dad’s little yellow house. 

Dark grey clouds loom. Thunder churns. The wind picks up. Midlands schools are cancelling evening activities. 

A tornado alert just sounded on my phone. 

My father, Jack, will be 70 years old this December. I spy him seated, alone, on the front deck that he built sixteen years ago. Watching lightning storms use to one of my favorite things to do with him as a child. Of course he’d be out here now. Daddy never changes. 

His wrinkled, permanently calloused hands are folded together. Staring silently off towards the coming storm, he’s motionless. 

Well, except for his solid white hair.

Published by Lisa Cole

Lisa Cole is a freelance writer and social media specialist skilled in non-profit marketing and grass roots advertising. This mother of four weaves humor, emotion and depth into stories about parenthood and life in the American South.

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