Yesterday, thunder shook the house and could be heard for almost a minute; the longest I’ve ever heard. The lightning that caused it flashed for a second, but left behind an aftermath that lasted about 50 times longer. It made me think about how long a life is heard. A lifetime sounds like a lot of time but in the scope of thousands of years it’s nothing, just like the lightning. If I live until I’m 80, 50 times that would be 4,000 years of hearing my thunder. I remember my grandparents 60 years ago, and recall two ancestors 220 years ago: a leader in a whiskey rebellion and a body guard for George Washington, but not much about their lives. I hope my grandchildren will hear my husband’s thunder until they can tell their grandchildren; possibly 70 years of remembering. Is it possible to make it to 4,000? How about 400 or is that only designated for the famous? Why do we stop telling? Didn’t they impact our lives, change us, love us? Maybe the social media lightning, what’s happening this second to me, matters more than the thunder of lives gone by, lives that still matter to me.