Whatever The Weather Outside, Dad Made Certain That Inside The Climate Was “Just Right”

Back when I was a little girl, we didn’t have the convenience of checking the weather on our phones.

But we did have a have a barometer.

A barometer was a affordable small tool that could be used at home to measure the atmospheric pressure in the air.

And those metrics could then be used to predict the weather.

Today I would love to share a story about my family’s barometer and my father in honor of Father’s Day this Sunday.

The Broken Barometer

The barometer was, broken—no movement, no light, nothing registered, and the needle was laying motionless on the bottom of the little instrument.

We had packed the barometer carefully and brought it from home in Utah, but obviously it had not survived the trip to Oklahoma.

As a family we were disappointed, especially my dad whose barometer it was, felt bad.Through this favorite “thing,” he enjoyed being an amateur weatherman and keeping us informed daily of the forecast.

We were unpacking and settling in a rental in the small town of Chickasha.

There we had found available housing near Ft. Sill where my army officer father would be stationed.

I was only six years old, but I vividly remember the sky turning dark, actually black; the air growing heavy, like a wet blanket covering us; a deafening silence prevailing; the chickens next door going to roost; sirens screaming in the distance; the wind whipping the house outside; and the cracking of trees splitting in our yard.

There were no people to be seen on the streets. All the life seemed to have been sucked out of everything.

Suddenly there was a horrendous roar as something screeched by and our house shook.

My parents did not know what to do or think or say. They were in a state of shock.

Even as a child, I had heard about the end of the world. I thought this was “IT.”

But it was not. It was a tornado.

I have since learned that a tornado is considered one of nature’s most violent storms.

We began to realize why the locals had underground storm shelters near their houses where they could run for protection against the elements.

Gratefully, a few minutes later everything returned to normal.So did Dad’s barometer.

We rejoiced.

It was given space in our Oklahoma home, and my dad continued to amaze us by being our own personal weatherman.

This talent only further convinced us children that my father was a “remarkable” man, indeed, just like my mother told us every day.

In addition to predicting the weather, he could do anything, he could fix anything, and things were at their best when he was around.

Later he even taught me how to do long division arithmetic, which was no easy task in my case, when following him from army camp to army camp had left me behind in the math curriculum at school.

We children felt loved and were happy and well taught by our parents wherever we lived.

Now decades later, the barometer has a place on my brother, Lee’s, desk as a tribute to this remarkable man.

Whatever the weather outside, Dad made certain that inside the climate was “just right.”

Happy Father’s Day!

Warmly,Daryl

​PS- If you missed my newsletter last month, my tribute to my mother for Mother’s Day can be found here.PPS- Interested in my latest book? The Art of Aging Joyfully, can be purchased here.