Lightning and Thunder

This personal essay gives a unique perspective to a broken relationship between a mother and daughter.

Lightning and Thunder

We were a bold and powerful pair. A relationship as complicated as ours could not be compared to many things; however, an exception lies within lightning and thunder. Brilliant bolts lit up the sky; they moved erratically, ever-changing. The deep and violent growl of thunder resonated along my bedroom window pane. As I stared through it, I became lost inside the dark and tragic sky. I felt as if I were looking straight at her, rather than just an unfortunate bout of inclement weather. Erratic and brilliant indeed, my mother was a force to be reckoned with, a natural disaster, perhaps, but a force nonetheless. She may have been even more lightning than I am thunder.

It was such a beautifully horrific sight; Dazedly, I stared at the electricity as it overflowed its cloud, violently colliding into bolts of white light. Breaking my much welcomed trance, a scene from my past was painted crystal-clear in my mind, and I could not help but travel two years back to it. From a distant place, I watched her once more, consumed by fear and anxiety. Proud and brave, she tried so hard to mask the very emotions which were engulfing her. They boiled in her heart and collided with whatever else had survived in it. When everything inside had finally escaped the grasp of her will, she looked as if she were somewhere between a chemical reaction and a scientific anomaly. But her fury in her words were like lightning bolts, quick jolts with no direction in their strike. I had never seen such desperation from her, nor had I ever seen her that enraged. There was a sorrowful plea beaming from her eyes to mine, silently imploring me to listen. Though in true likeness of thunder, I demanded the last word. Taking my stance, I planted my feet on the ground, angry and unmoving. As lightning struck, my mother’s words rang out, piercing the air between us. My hasty reaction bore the power of thunder. She felt the snarl of my words before she ever heard them. Every word I spoke ignited the sparks charging within her. She had lines of fury across her face, vowing her persistence. I caught no glimpse of her logic, though I rarely ever had. I was right and she was wrong.

There is nothing that I wouldn’t give now to go back to that day and be wrong. I should have bowed out gracefully, leaving her the victory. If only I were never like thunder, so quick and angry. I should never have said those words; I truly meant them then, but I do not truly mean them now. I will no longer embrace my likeness to thunder.

Reality took hold and jerked the scene from my mind. The brilliant lightning and the bravado of the thunder still danced outside my bedroom window pane, acting out a scene that I know all too well. I found myself listlessly awaiting the brilliance of the lightning bolts, mesmerized by each strike. I sat there by the window, wondering how different our time together could have been. Perhaps she would have fought harder and stayed longer, had we not so resembled lightning and thunder.

I will always await the lightning bolts. How worth the wait would be to see them shine in the sky once more, giving purpose to the low growl of thunder. For I came to be from lightning, but lightning is no more, how will I ever have anything to be? There is only one difference that my heart has found. The tragic truth is that lightning and thunder have always been and will forever remain together. As for me and my mother, that is nothing more than an impossible dream.

[629 words]

Author's Note

Any constructive criticism welcome!