Suffice to say this has been a most interesting Christmas weekend.
We piled into our pickup Christmas morning and headed to the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex. Our granddaughter, Emma, awaited us.
We discovered right away that it’s really quite a treat to drive any distance on the morning of this holy day. Why? We were among the very few who were hitting the road.
We pulled our fifth wheel and arrived in Allen, Texas about 30 minutes ahead of schedule.
We exchanged Christmas gifts with Emma and her parents. We laughed and hugged on our precious little pumpkin.
We awoke this morning. We ran some errands; I purchased a new computer with my son’s help and returned to his home. My wife, daughter-in-law and granddaughter went on a shopping spree of their own.
Then all hell broke loose.
The rain came. The wind blew. Then the tornado sirens began screaming. The TV weather guys were all over the story of a storm that ravaged the entire greater Dallas area.
We didn’t experience any damage in the neighborhood where Emma lives with our son, daughter-in-law and her two brothers.
But the twisters were close.
Wylie? Hammered. De Soto? Pounded. Garland, Ellis County and Rockwall? More of the same.
As I write this brief blog post, eight people have died in just the past three hours. Three died in a Garland gasoline service station that was pulverized by a tornado.
The worst of the storms has swept on by. We’re still standing, breathing a major sigh.
My wife and I have known for a very long time how blessed we are in so many ways. Our hearts are broken for those who have lost so much on this evening, the day after Christmas.
Still, tonight we feel especially blessed … and thankful.