Rain drops falling steadily like tears …
Not the tears of a broken heart, but healing tears, as you make up after a fight with your lover.
Not tears of hopelessness, but tears of relief, after the test results come back negative.
Rain brings growth. Rain cleanses. Once the rain stops, the sun, eventually, emerges, and shines.
Rain is a mug of good, hot coffee. Tea, mellow, thoughtful and sweet – like your favorite friend.
Rain is reading good books curled up on the couch.
Rain is listening to music while you stare out at the graygreen world.
Buried under blankets, hugging a pile of pillows, watching your favorite movies.
Rain offers us a break from mad dashing to and fro from the self-imposed prisons we call life, responsibilities, obligations.
Rain says, take a break, I got this. You’ll just be in my way.
Rain forces us to be together, to talk about what’s been bothering us, to tell “Remember when” stories, makes us laugh.
Rain reminds us gently of Mother Nature’s power, gently puts us back in our place, keeps our ever-growing selfish sense of self-importance in check.
Rain forces us to pause and be thoughtful. To take stock of our lives, to slow down, to breathe.
The smell of rainy days, to me, are like the smell of fall and winter – it’s the scent of being in love, the scent of being alive, the scent of living.
How many great poems were written, because of rainy days?
How many great songs composed?
How many great novels were inspired by rainy days just like this?
How many loves, friendships, solidified, during rainy days?
Rainy days are magic.
I came downstairs this morning.
I said good morning to my mother.
It’s an ugly day outside, she said.
I looked out the kitchen window to our backyard. The rain had turned our Laredo dry grass into a verdant and lush paradise, an enchanted forest.
I was alive, so was my mom – so were my brother and his partner.
We had safety and shelter from the storm.
We have survived so much.
Death, mental illness, physical illness, arguments, fights, spats, conflicts, disagreements – survived them all, and helped heal afterwards. A glacier’s pace often, but forward motion is still moving forward. And we’ve grown closer because of it.
My depression has mellowed with my medication.
So much life.
I stared out, lulled by the repetition of steady falling raindrops.
It’s so beautiful, I said.
What I’m listening to now:
On the Warm Side by Mimicking Birds.