In my Sunday Wise Words interview with Andy Robideaux, we chatted after the interview about the weather the week of his mother Toni's death, in January 2004. It was crystaline cold but beautiful. So much so that everything stood out — the moon, the stars, the trees draped with ice.
It reminded me of the weather when my dad died in the winter of 1996. The week he was actively dying, raging snowstorms and then the day of his burial, below zero temps. When my brother-in-law Pietro was dying in September 2010, his daughter Laura drove through a tornado in Brooklyn to get to his Philadelphia home. No kidding. Look at YouTube video here.
Do we remember the weather more because grief heightens the senses? Or do some people rile up the weather as they lay dying, as a last message to the world they are leaving behind? We'll never know on that one…
But it leads to this question: Do you remember the weather the day your loved one died? Was it out of the ordinary?
(S-R archive photo of damage from Brooklyn tornado)