it's like rain on your wedding day

Sometimes, I can still hear him clearly in my head.

Hurricane Ike is on its way to Houston. I feel like it's Hurricane Rita all over again. Although this time, Ike is predicted to really hit Houston. I am afraid. Ironically, though, this time my family is not moving. They're saying, "Screw the 15 hour drive to Austin. We're just going to take our chances." I always feel it's better to be safe than sorry. Usually, I'd just agree with them, but I think they've molded me to where I'm now afraid of everything.

My family has a mailing list that we use to send emails to each other. On slow days, my inbox is flooded with forwards and replies. My oldest uncle is known for sending out random forwards of chain mail and pictures. Other times, the emails consist of warnings about burglaries or shootings. Sometimes, there are emails about interesting news posted on CNN. A lot of the times, they would send out emails that they receive from God-knows-who about urban legends and myths. The most recent one was about not drinking from water bottles that you leave in your car because the heated plastic can cause cancer. I mean, come on. First of all, what doesn't cause cancer these days? And second of all, check out snopes.com. Another time, I got an email about men who stay and wait underneath women's cars in parking lots, and when the women come back to their cars, the men would slit their ankles, take advantage of them, and steal their stuff. The stories almost seem so exaggerated and too unbelievable to not be true! So unbelievable that it's believable. Not to mention, my crazy mother would call me on random days with random "facts" about random things just to instill fear into my heart. I think it's their "subtle" way of warning me not to go anywhere or do anything. They want me to become rich and successful without ever leaving the comforts of my home.

9:45pm on a Wednesday night while I'm at home alone:

"Janice. I forgot to tell you earlier. Don't play golf in the rain because lightning will strike you, and you will die."

"Um.. thanks, mom. It's almost 10pm. And I'm studying. And I'm not playing golf. Oh, and I don't play golf. Ever."

So anyway, we always had a laugh at these emails, he and I. We'd joke about how the guy pumping gas next to us will, at any moment, come over and make us sniff his new cologne so as to make us pass out and steal our car. He was always telling me that my family is always trying to provoke fear, and he told me that if I went through life living in fear, I would never be able to do anything.

Today, I got an email from my uncle after the whole we-are-not-evacuating decision. His email said, and I quote, "Make sure that your propane tank are filled, if not you can refill it at the station....ALL stores are out if you want to do exchange, but you can google online for the refill station near you." Welcome to Texas where hurricanes strike, and the main concern is how to remedy an empty propane tank. Surely evacuating the city of disaster would not be a priority.

The fact that he capitalized "ALL" makes me terrified! It also makes me wonder if the situation is a lot more dangerous than I think it is. Chaos started running through my brain, and all these awful scenarios and images started flashing across my mind. I started to shake, and then all of a sudden, I hear him laughing.

His laughter is as clear as day. Instantaneously, the panic was lifted from my body, and I could actually hear him say, "Ohhhh my gosh. There goes your family trying to scare you again. Your uncle makes it sound like the world has just been depleted of propane and that we must all go get propane now! It's a little ridiculous, don't you think? Geez, they sure are something."

I almost turned around as if he were reading the email above my shoulder. The thought of him standing behind me flashing a reassuring smile to tell me that everything was going to be fine forced me to smile a little myself.

Sigh. He's still here. He's still with me. And I still take comfort in the sound of his voice.

His low, gentle, soothing voice in my head makes me feel sane.

Isn't it ironic? Don't you think? A little too ironic. And yeah, I really do think.