That first spring was a doozy for me. Not that anything out of the ordinary happened weatherwise, I just started packing a go bag again. You know, the bag with clean clothes and underwear, maybe water and shoes and other things you would need in an emergency.
I started keeping a go bag packed when I was in elementary school, after reading Night of the Twisters (http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/646730.Night_of_the_Twisters). That book preoccupied me for weeks. My mom grew up in Oklahoma, so I was taught very early how to watch the skies and appreciate storms. Tornado threats were met with near nonchalance by my mom, and I only remember one time where we actually retreated to the bathtub. But I think that was to make my sister and I feel better.
After I read that book, though, I was scared of tornadoes. Not irrationally, I mean this is North Texas. I was scared of losing everything I had and everyone I loved. I guess it eased with age, but once kids were in the picture, forget it.
There's a storm headed our way now. Long, low, rumbling thunder. Everyone's in bed. I'm sure the sirens will wake me up , right?