When I made my screen name, St0rmWhispers, I wanted to reflect my Native American heritage and honor my Grandpa Rogers, who was always brutally honest and unspeakably kind towards me. He loved me, and all of his children and grandchildren, as much for our faults as for our virtues. I always knew he thought I was "different" in a *weird* kind of way...and it was OK that he thought that because he loved me for it and not despite it. My oddities and quirks made me special to him.
I always had an affinity with storms. They energize me. They somehow help me clarify my thoughts. I tried to explain this to my Grandpa once when I was about 10 years old. He wondered why all my siblings were huddled together on the big sofa bed we slept in when we spent the night watching a movie and I was standing at the window.
"What are you doing standing all by yourself over here?" (I'm sure he was just shocked that I wasn't talking) , he asked.
"I'm watching and listening"
"Oh" he put his hands in his pockets and stared at me curiously.
"I like storms, storms like me too" I said.
"They call that an affinity" Grandpa was always trying new words out on me... the ones he didn't use with his truck driver buddies.
"What's affinity mean" Unusual...but a word I hadn't yet heard of.
"It means that you are like what you like" Grandpa replied.
"huh?"
"It means the thing you like sort of talks to you"
"No Grandpa... it listens and whispers"
"I think you like storms so much because you are a little stormy yourself" Grandpa sassed, then he tickled me and convinced me to join my much more normal siblings on the sofa.
After that there were a few more *inside* jokes between us about storms whispering to me and how I should make sure they were not making stuff up...but I think he liked what I told him that day...I look back and remember a slightly puzzled and yet still impressed expression that he wore and I am pleased we had those few moments.
Grandpa died about a year and a half later....but he lives in my heart forever.
Years later my mother told me how Grandpa worried for me, he thought that I was brilliant but so emotional that I would be hurt and he was very afraid that I'd not be strong enough to resist those who would take advantage of me. There were times in my life that did happen, people took advantage of me and broke my heart and my spirit but when I came close to losing everything, including my mind... the lessons my Cherokee Grandfather taught me throughout his short life have stayed in my heart and always come back to save me before it was too late.
Grandpa called me *stormy* because I was a bundle of energy trying to keep my emotions in check but the more deeply I felt something the smaller my voice became... Storms whisper is to show that there is more beneath what I say than meets the eye.
I always had an affinity with storms. They energize me. They somehow help me clarify my thoughts. I tried to explain this to my Grandpa once when I was about 10 years old. He wondered why all my siblings were huddled together on the big sofa bed we slept in when we spent the night watching a movie and I was standing at the window.
"What are you doing standing all by yourself over here?" (I'm sure he was just shocked that I wasn't talking) , he asked.
"I'm watching and listening"
"Oh" he put his hands in his pockets and stared at me curiously.
"I like storms, storms like me too" I said.
"They call that an affinity" Grandpa was always trying new words out on me... the ones he didn't use with his truck driver buddies.
"What's affinity mean" Unusual...but a word I hadn't yet heard of.
"It means that you are like what you like" Grandpa replied.
"huh?"
"It means the thing you like sort of talks to you"
"No Grandpa... it listens and whispers"
"I think you like storms so much because you are a little stormy yourself" Grandpa sassed, then he tickled me and convinced me to join my much more normal siblings on the sofa.
After that there were a few more *inside* jokes between us about storms whispering to me and how I should make sure they were not making stuff up...but I think he liked what I told him that day...I look back and remember a slightly puzzled and yet still impressed expression that he wore and I am pleased we had those few moments.
Grandpa died about a year and a half later....but he lives in my heart forever.
Years later my mother told me how Grandpa worried for me, he thought that I was brilliant but so emotional that I would be hurt and he was very afraid that I'd not be strong enough to resist those who would take advantage of me. There were times in my life that did happen, people took advantage of me and broke my heart and my spirit but when I came close to losing everything, including my mind... the lessons my Cherokee Grandfather taught me throughout his short life have stayed in my heart and always come back to save me before it was too late.
Grandpa called me *stormy* because I was a bundle of energy trying to keep my emotions in check but the more deeply I felt something the smaller my voice became... Storms whisper is to show that there is more beneath what I say than meets the eye.
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