NORMAN — The morning of May 20, 2013, I had one of my gut feelings. These feelings irk my husband to no end because he just can’t figure out why they are always right. Even after almost 10 years together, he just can’t wrap his mind around women’s intuition.
I remember that morning I had decided to wear all the good jewelry — trust me it’s not much. I kissed the dogs goodbye an extra 10 times that morning, and as I was backing out of the driveway, I took one last long look at my Moore home before I reluctantly went to work. I remember thinking that this could be the last time I see my house.
All day, I tried to busy myself. I tried to not think about the weather reports and I tried not to think about the potential hazards. I tried not to think about how, in minutes, everything I worked hard for my entire life could be gone.
I think it was about 1 a.m. before I got home on what was now May 21. My home was safe, but I knew hundreds of my neighbors had a different story to tell. I woke my sleeping husband up and we just hugged and cried. We were both so thankful our home had been spared, but we also were in shock.
I remember, May 1999, watching news coverage from miles away. Then I had no idea the magnitude of the pain or the destruction from my then Ada home. Fast forward a few years and I knew exactly all those feelings.
I admit I was reluctant to go see the documentary “Where Was God?” I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to watch it this close to the anniversary of May 20. The jury is still out on if I was or not, but I’m glad I was there Tuesday night for the movie’s premier. I’m just thankful that movies are shown in the dark — that way no one noticed how ugly of a crier I can be.